A Gap Year
by Magali1
Summary: After graduation from UT, Tyra takes a year to figure some stuff out. Semi-romance, light-hearted fic. Tyra POV, with appearances by Tim, Landry, Mindy, Billy, Lyla, Julie, Matt, and the Taylors.
1. Crossing the Line

**A/N:**This is my newest fic, it really is still a work in progress, so it will be slow going. It's all Tyra-centric, with main appearances by Tim, Billy, Mindy, Angela, and Landry. Matt, Julie, and the Taylors make appearances as well. I tried to keep it mostly light-hearted and answer a few open-ended things Tyra's character still kind of had when the series ended. Enjoy :)

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_**Chapter 1: Crossing the Line**_

My God, what am I doing here?

Tyra sat on the side of the road, in the front seat of her beat-up Mustang. She'd bought it cheap from a guy she'd been seeing her junior year at UT and it was a terrible investment, always falling apart on her and stalling out. As had the guy. She'd dumped him, but not the car.

She tapped her chipped red manicure fingernails against a matching red battered leather steering wheel, staring out the windshield at nothing in particular. She refused to cross the line. It was just an imaginary line, but she knew where it was. It was almost like the moment she crossed, she was screwed. She was stuck. Forever. This place will eat you alive, she thought.

The giant Texas-shaped blue and yellow sign stared back at her, mocking her. It also called to her. Cross over, it said, in a haunting voice. You'll be able to leave. We promise…ensue evil cackle. It was freshly painted, she noted, taking in the newest year tacked on to the bottom. This past year. They'd won, with her brother-in-law helming the offense.

Pretty good coach, she was shocked the screw-up was able to actually do something right for once. Although she couldn't really nag on him that much. He'd cleaned up, gotten his act together. Her sister was happy with him, that's all that mattered to Tyra when it came down to Billy Riggins. Her nephews were happy too, all three of the little rugrats.

They have a life that Mindy and me didn't have, she thought to herself, glancing out the window as another car slowed slightly as it passed by her. Ignore me. I'm just sitting here on the side of the road, preparing for the end of my life.

It was so early; she didn't know why she'd left Austin so early. Probably because she had to be out of her apartment by noon or else the greasy little shithead landlord would call the cops on her. She also couldn't sleep. Hadn't been able to sleep for the last couple of weeks.

How did this become me, she wondered, taking another step back before she could take a step forward. It had been so damn great for so long and now…once she got somewhere good she was back here in this hellhole. Devil town, she thought. She glanced sideways at her cell phone. Maybe she should call Julie or one of her girlfriends from UT. Just to get a little bit of a peptalk, that this was a good thing she was doing. She reached for it, sitting in her cupholder.

And immediately blue and red flashing lights lit up the windows.

Oh shit, she thought instantly, jumping in her seat, her hands automatically going to the steering wheel. What the hell? I'm parked on the side of the road! "Is that a crime now?" Tyra wondered out loud. She lowered the window as the sheriff's deputy in khakis approached her, gesturing for her to lower the window. She turned her face, putting on a sweet smile, tossing her bangs out of her eyes and thanked herself for deciding to wear a low-cut top that morning. "Hello Deputy…" Her eyes widened and she immediately dropped her high voice, tugging up her shirt. "Mr. Clarke!"

Landry's father smiled warmly at her. "Tyra," he drawled, leaning on the doorframe of the rusted Mustang. He glanced into the driver's seat, doing a quick scan of the rest of the small vehicle. His eyes met hers a second later. "Got some complaints that you were sitting on the side of the road, came on how to ensure everything was all right, you waiting on a tow?"

"Ah…no," she said. That would be less embarrassing. She swallowed hard. It had been forever since she'd seen Landry's father. She felt guilty for some reason, even if it had been years. She still hadn't spoken to Landry since…well since forever. Since she promised him she'd meet him on the side of the highway.

I don't want to think about that. Not right now. She smiled again, less confident than she had been a moment ago. "No, I'm sorry, I'm just trying to…clear my head. I'll go, sorry Mr. Clarke. Sorry." Oh my God, shut up, stop saying you're sorry.

Mr. Clarke knocked his knuckles against the top of the car. He stepped back, frowning and pointing at her. "Are you sure you're alright? You need anything?"

"Fine," she whispered. She waited until he said his polite goodbyes and walked back to his car before her shoulders deflated. Alright, it was time to pack it in. Just drive across the imaginary line.

So she did, a moment later, with Mr. Clarke watching her from his deputy's car, the lights still flashing. She felt like her soul was automatically disappearing from her as she crossed the line. She drove through town, which hadn't changed much in the last few years. She'd been back of course, back to visit the family at Christmas, which she didn't like doing, but they were family.

Instead of taking the turnoff to head out to the old oil fields where her mother still lived or crossing the bridge into the old neighborhood where her sister still lived in that damn ranch house, she kept going through Dillon, finally crossing out of the city limits and into what she referred to as "Dillon Heights." In reality, it was unincorporated Dillon, free from the rules and regulations of the rest of the city.

The road grew less traveled, the land around it more wild, until she was turning into a (finally) paved driveway. She rolled her eyes at the "KEEP OUT" sign hanging from the gate, which he hadn't bothered to close the night before, praying her car made it to the end of the driveway before it stalled out. She could hear the engine rattling; it was only a matter of time.

Maybe he can fix it. She waited a second, the car behind his truck. She should move it, in case he wanted to leave. Oh well. I'm already here. I'll move it later, after he makes a stink because it was a piece of crap near his beloved truck. Which was also a piece of crap.

Tyra climbed out of her car, unfolding her long and lean frame from the small seat. She stretched for a few minutes, scanning the land while she did. Delaying the inevitable begging that was going to occur on the doorstep. She loved it here. Not as much as he did, but she loved it all the same. It was so quiet. So peaceful. She glanced over her shoulder at the iron gates moved into a paddock near a small barn, frowning at the newest addition since Christmas. "Hello horsie," she said under her breath. That was a new one.

The pretty chestnut horse standing in the paddock merely swished his or her tail, returning to munching on stray grass sticking up from the dirt.

He can barely handle himself, why does he have a horse? Tyra walked up the worn path from the driveway, stepped up onto the porch and to the door. She touched the doorknob, formerly having every intention of just barging in, but…it wasn't her house. She closed her eyes, knocking sharply on the door. "Riggins!" she barked. She leaned against the frame with her shoulder, knocking harder this time. She waited another second, lifting her face up to the porch ceiling. "Tim open this door! Get your drunk ass out of bed! Come on!"

The door swung open after another hard bang of her fist. "Finally," she said. She frowned, staring at the woman on the other side of the threshold wearing a flannel shirt and not much else.

Tyra narrowed her eyes. "Hello," she said, flashing a quick smile. She arched an eyebrow a second later. "Who the hell are you?"

The woman, who looked to be about eighteen, yawned, shaking her hand through her hair, which was a deep black with pink streaks. God, I hope she's legal, Tyra thought. The conquest didn't say anything, still drunk from the night before. "Are you his wife?" she mumbled.

Yes, I'm his wife. Do I look like his wife? What the hell? Tyra rolled her eyes, pushing the girl aside. "Sweetie you're the reason why women fight for rights," she said, sarcastic. She yelled up the stairs. "Riggins!"

No response. Did the conquest kill him? "I'm Skye," the girl said from behind her. "I work at the Landing Strip."

"Of course you do," Tyra cooed, ignoring Skye and walking up the stairs. She did not want to do this so early in the morning, but she should have expected it. She banged on the walls, which still had nothing on them, despite her advice at Christmas that he should put up some photos or something. Or at least paint. Her voice echoed in the rather empty house. She barged into his room, finding feet sticking out from beneath the comforter and a hand draped over the side of the bed. Nothing was going to wake him up. Unless…Tyra glanced around, peeking into the bathroom. She snatched up the cup beside the sink, turning on the cold faucet and filled it.

This should do the trick.

A moment later, after dumping the water on Tim, she had him at least somewhat awake, cursing her existence. He sat up, leaning on his elbows, his eyes narrowed on her. "What?" he croaked. He glanced around, noting that he was alone.

"Skye is probably stealing your wallet from downstairs."

"Oh."

"Please dear God tell me she's 18."

"She's twenty-something," he yawned, crawling back beneath the comforter. His voice was muffled. "Go away. What are you doing here?"

She rolled her eyes. This was going to be her life; she knew it. She knew it from the moment she was sixteen years old. She was going to end up just like Mindy, with a Riggins, helping his drunk self out of bed every single morning. She leaned over, pulling the comforter back and lowered her face to his.

One eye opened. He scowled. "Go away."

"Sorry, no can do. I'm not living with my mother again."

The other eye opened. There, that did it. He sat back up, a lot more slowly this time, his face more alert. The hangover clearly wasn't as bad as it seemed to be earlier. He blinked. She smiled. "Again?" he murmured.

Yes, again. I'm not living with her again. If my life has come to this, a degree from the University of Texas but no job and no acceptance letters from the graduate schools she'd applied for, this was going to be her life until she could reassess and hopefully hear back from someone, anyone, she'd sent her resume to.

So it was decided. She was not living with Mindy, Billy, and three children under the age of five. She was not going to live with her mother and listen to her complain about men, jobs, and how the price of wine was skyrocketing. Since she didn't have a job and almost nothing in her savings account, she had one option for the foreseeable future she had in Dillon, Texas.

Tyra grinned wide. "I'm moving in with you!"

Tim just fell back onto the bed, groaning into his pillow.

How do you think I feel, Tyra thought, pushing away from the bed to kick the stripper out of the house. My life, she thought sadly, slamming his door behind him, hoping it hurt his head like hell.


	2. Ironing Your Tips

_**Chapter 2: Ironing Your Tips**_

"This kitchen is a sty." Tyra threw another bag of trash out the door onto the side porch, once again rolling her eyes at the horse in the paddock. She really, really needed an answer to that question mark. She turned around, dusting her hands off on her jeans. If I'm going to live here, he's going to go buy more food and get something in his fridge other than beer, orange juice, and milk, she thought. And something other than drinking fruit too; she narrowed hre eyes at the lemons and limes still pristine plastic tubs of the Sub-Zero fridge.

Nice, when could you afford this? Come to think of it, when could you afford any of this stuff? To go with the Sub-Zero there was a sleek silver stove with an iron oven-top and an old-fashioned porcelain single sink with a tall curving faucet and old-fashioned handles.

And you can't be bothered to paint the damn living room. Geez Tim.

Tyra picked up a pair of his jeans from outside of the laundry room, where she found a new washer and dryer set too. She threw the jeans into the washer, frowning when a wad of ones fell out of one of the pockets. Oh God, Tim…her eyes widened.

"Put my money away."

She turned quickly, holding up the handful of crumpled one-dollar bills. Why would he have...oh my God. Mindy. It was just like Mindy, when she'd come home from work. She spun on him again, staring. "No."

"No what?"

"You're not..." I can't believe this. I can't see it, it doesn't...but it made sense... He wasn't saying anything. She shook her hands, full of the ones, at him. "Oh my God, Tim, you're a stripper!"

He stared at her; his lips curved somewhat into a smile. "Yeah?" he asked. He shrugged. "You think I'm a stripper?"

"Tim!" That or a drug dealer.

"I'm not a stripper!" he laughed. He took the money from her, laying it out on top of the washer and reaching for an iron, flicking it on. He shrugged his shoulder, still smiling as he began to run it over the bills. It took Tyra a second to realize he was trying not to burst into laughter. "But I work with them."

Mindy you…I'm going to kill you. Tyra closed her eyes, touching her fingers to her nose, pinching hard. "You're a bouncer at the Landing Strip?" It was the only explanation for the ones.

"And the Touchdown, it's that one that opened in East Dillon about a year ago." He held up a one-dollar bill, snapping it straight so George Washington was winking at her. He chuckled. "Gotta' get tipped at the end of the night for protecting the ladies from perverts."

"Why didn't Mindy tell me?"

"Dunno. What did you do to my kitchen, by the way?"

"I cleaned it asshole." She left him to ironing out his wages, still unable to put together the idea of Tim as a bouncer. She thought he was working freelance construction, but apparently that didn't pay as well as a bouncer. She went back to the fridge, frowning at something out of the corner of her eye.

On the other side of the kitchen, along the wide window beside the French doors in the little dining room area, there were about fifty post cards hanging from a strip of paper, tacked to the top of the wooden siding. Weird. It was almost like an art project. Tyra reached for one, which had a photo of the Egyptian pyramids and Sphinx. Her stomach twisted. She would love to go there one day. In fact…she looked up at one from Paris and another from Hungary…she'd love to go to all these places. She got to do a study abroad in Argentina, the beginning of her junior year. She almost didn't come back; she loved it so much.

Gap year, her advisor at UT called it. Take a gap year. You can keep applying for jobs, apply again for graduate school, but take what money you have and travel. Experience things. See the world. Lots of kids did it. Lots of kids who didn't have families that needed their help and no money in the bank and a terrible fear of diving even more into debt than she already was for her four years at UT. Her scholarship and work-study program only went so far. Tyra sighed, reached for one from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. She twisted each one around, seeing nothing where the message was supposed to go. The handwriting in the address box was neat and precise. Girly, she noted immediately, seeing the script 'g' in Riggins.

The hardwood floor beneath her bare feet creaked as Tim reentered the kitchen. "Finish ironing your money?" she asked, turning over another card with the Great Wall of China on it. Whoever this postcard sender was, they traveled a lot and really wanted Tim to know it.

"Yes, I finished ironing my money, now can you explain what you're doing here?" Tim asked. He was quiet. She didn't think he'd be angry with her, in fact she knew he wouldn't be angry with her, but like anyone, he'd probably just want a quick little explanation for it.

Right now Tyra didn't want to explain it. It was embarrassing, coming back to Dillon. She could end up here forever if she wasn't careful. Gap year, her ass. She was going to kill herself getting out of here again if she had to. She didn't answer him, glancing at the horse again. She cleared her throat. "Do you realize you have a large quadruped in your backyard?"

"Huh?"

"Four-legged animal."

"What?"

"The horse!"

"Oh, yeah, Belle." He shrugged, walking over to the countertop and poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot she'd brewed earlier while he hustled Skye the Stripper out of the house, promising to call her. Fat chance, she wanted to tell Skye. Just move on to the next honey. There's probably plenty more where you came from anyway.

Tim sighed, turning and leaning against the counter, holding the Dillon Panther coffee mug in his palms. He stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing his ankles. "Rescued her from the glue factory. Long story."

"I've got time." She turned away from the postcards, which he did not volunteer any explanation for. She lifted an eyebrow, her arms crossing her chest. "Mindy never told me."

"Mindy doesn't tell you everything."

That was probably true. As much as Tyra thought she was close with her sister, she really wasn't. They were close by necessity. She loved her very much, she'd die for her, but they didn't gossip and weren't best friends. They had different goals and lives. So yeah, she wasn't really surprised Mindy didn't tell her about Tim's horse. Especially when it came to Tim.

Mindy doesn't want me to end up like her, she thought, smiling quickly at the thought. She tossed her hair from her eyes again. The red dye job she'd had done at Christmas was now faded to strawberry blonde, mixing with her natural color. "So you have a horse? What about Kit-Kat?"

"Kit-Kat went to the great longhorn pasture in the sky, but don't tell Stevie, he thinks she's at a farm." Tim tossed back his coffee, swallowing the hot beverage hard. He winced. "Belle's just a replacement for large animals in my life."

Tyra shook her head slightly. Unbelievable. She hoped the horse would be okay. It seemed happy, munching outside to food he'd dumped out there after Skye disappeared. She tapped the postcards. "What's this? Someone wants you to know they travel. Who is it?"

He shrugged, nonchalant, topping off his coffee cup. "Friend. They travel."

"Yeah? Who? Anyone I know?" She was genuinely curious. Maybe this person worked for a company that was hiring recent graduates with degrees that ultimately didn't guarantee them a career. Hers was in Psychology. It only prepared her for graduate school, which she…

She stiffened at the thought, hearing her advisor's words in her ear. You overestimated yourself. No she didn't. I did not overestimate myself. The colleges just underestimated me. Oh well. She'd…reassess later.

Tim waved his hand, setting his coffee cup down in the sink. He stepped back, walking out of the kitchen. He said something under his breath, which she had to strain to hear. "Peace Corps."

Peace Corps? Maybe I should join the Peace Corps. Traipsing about a war torn area building houses might make a better gap year than spending time in Dillon. Or maybe she should keep thinking of alternatives.

She followed him into the living room, where there was a flatscreen in the corner on a stand. The only other pieces of furniture were a couple of folding chairs, a massive recliner, and an old leather loveseat she knew came from the old house. "What about the Peace Corps?"

"The person who sends me those cards is in the Peace Corps, now stop asking me questions and answer one of mine." He tugged on her hand, reclining back into his chair, tilting his head back. He smiled slightly. "So what are you doing here? Finally accepting my proposal?"

She rolled her eyes, letting go of his hand and crashing back onto the couch. She looked up at the ceiling, her hands folded on her chest. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not marrying you Tim. I'm twenty-two. Not roasting about in hell."

"Just thought I'd ask again."

No Tim, you didn't even ask the first time. She closed her eyes, her hand lifting to cover her face. You wanted me to stay, but you didn't ask. I warned you that I had plans, things to do, and you just said maybe one day. Maybe one day, that was fine for her, but this was not that day.

She didn't ever want to tell him that that day would likely never happen.

That's not why I'm here anyway. She turned on the couch, watching him for a moment as he flicked through a stack of mail on the dinner tray beside his chair. He picked up a new postcard. From the distance, she could see Senegal on the front. He frowned and got up, walking to a desk pushed against the wall behind the loveseat. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Checking something."

"Checking what?" Tyra sat up, looking over the couch as he flicked through an atlas. Where was Senegal, she couldn't remember. Africa, somewhere? "What are you looking for?"

"Shh," he said over his shoulder. He found what he was looking for, smiled, and closed the atlas after making some sort of note in it with a pen. He walked back into the kitchen and attached the new postcard to the many around the window frame.

Weird. Whatever, she wouldn't question it. "So what do you do during the day when you're not providing security for girls with daddy issues?" Tyra asked. She didn't know what she was going to do. She had to unpack and then go visit her mom, let her know she was back and living with Tim.

Mommy will be so happy for me, she thought with an eyeroll. As much as she loved her mother and her mother loved her and supported her goals, Tyra didn't want to deal with her mom casually suggesting she give it another go with Tim. Last Christmas had been hell with her saying maybe he could move with her to New York or Chicago, where she'd applied for graduate school.

Fat chance. Of me ending up with him and of me getting him to come with me to another city. Angela clearly didn't know Tim.

She got off the couch, shoving her fingers into her back belt loops. "Because I really could get something to eat, you want breakfast?"

"No, I gotta' get to work."

"You still doing construction?"

"Yeah, since I can't work on cars another two years," he mumbled. He never brought up that year he spent in prison or his parole or the remaining restrictions. She didn't ask about it either. He'd done well, building his house and mending his relationship with Billy. So she didn't ask.

But yeah, she remembered him saying that awhile ago, no cars for another two years, part of his 'limited' parole, if there was such a thing, now that he was off the official parole. She bit her bottom lip, her hands moving to her pockets. She waited a beat, but he didn't offer anything else up, too busy flicking through the atlas. "So…" she trailed off, lifting an eyebrow. "Where do you work now?"

"Construction. Buddy's Bar. Road crew. Bouncer." He flashed her a quick smile, reaching around her on the desk for his car keys and a neon yellow t-shirt. "Today is road crew…" He picked up another t-shirt from a laundry basket kicked against the wall, holding it up. It said 'Buddy's.' "And the bar. See you around."

Four jobs. She almost didn't recognize him. But…yeah, whatever, see you around, she thought idly, watching him leave, the door slamming behind him. She pursed her lips, smiling and waiting a beat.

Three…two…one…

The door banged back open. "Move your piece of shit from my driveway!"

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

After she'd relocated her POS to the side of the driveway and he'd exited, with a random shout to check on the horse in an hour or so, she went out onto the porch, sitting on the steps and holding her chin in her hands.

She better empty her car. Just looking at it full of her stuff made her fear for its life. She made no further move to get up. There was a lot to do. Unpack, start looking online for jobs, call back the ones she already applied for…go see Mindy and her mother…

Tyra made no move to get up. She had all year.


	3. Paying Rent

_**Chapter 3: Paying Rent**_

"So what are your plans today? Because I'm working late tonight and I could really use…" Mindy trailed off, smiling quickly. She shrugged, setting down the laundry basket in her arms on the washer. "Just thought I'd try."

The look must have worked. Tyra glanced down at the cup of coffee she was holding, sitting at the counter while Mindy did laundry across from her. She could see into Tim's old bedroom, which now was painted pale blue and had white trim, carpeted and covered in various toys, along with two toddler beds pushed against opposite ends of the walls.

It was foreign to her, this house. Everything in it was new, repainted, and reorganized. Mindy had done a good job of turning the Riggins bachelor pad into a house for a family. Even if her taste was sometimes something to be desired. Tyra narrowed her eyes at a particularly hideous rooster clock above the sink.

She glanced over her shoulder into the living room, where Stevie was stretched out on his stomach in front of the television, coloring in one of his workbooks. He'd started three times a week kindergarten and to her knowledge, this was one of the first times in the last year since he found out about school that he wasn't talking her ear off about how cool it would be.

A Riggins enjoying school? There were stranger things in the world. Not many, but there were. Tyra spied the twins sneaking around the couch. They were all playing The Quiet Game, but the three-year olds were losing pretty bad, occasionally shouting before covering their mouths and giggling, realizing they'd slipped.

She got off the stool, walking over and picking up Sammy, who was trying to sneak up on Stevie. Scotty, the other twin, only distinguishable by his shock of dark hair compared to Sammy's blond, turned around from where he was rummaging in a bin of toys behind the couch. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked, blowing a raspberry on Sammy's neck, eliciting a happy squeal.

"Me too!" Scotty demanded, dropping his toys and running around the couch to hug her ankles, not wanting to be left out.

Stevie looked over his shoulder, shushing them with one hard look that reminded Tyra a lot of Tim. "I'm working!" he exclaimed, swiveling around to his workbook. He was diligently coloring in the block letters of his alphabet.

"Well sorry silly," she said, nudging her foot on his little feet. He immediately tucked them underneath his butt, sitting up on his knees. She grinned down at his scowl. "You're really into this whole school thing, huh?"

"Yes," he said so seriously. "I like school."

Good. Tyra smiled wide, leaving Stevie to his 'studies.' She carted Sammy into the kitchen, smiling at her sister's happy expression. "What?" she asked, holding Sammy on her hip. Scotty came running up behind her, attaching himself to her ankle.

Mindy shrugged. She returned to folding towels on the kitchen counter. "Just you know, it's nice that you're here. They love their Aunt Ty-Ty."

"Tyra, Mindy, they're not calling me Ty-Ty, that's your name for me."

"Well they don't need to know that." She glanced down at Scotty. "Did you suddenly grow twenty inches last night or is that just my bad Mommy eyes?"

"Your eyes," Scotty let her know.

"Thought so." Mindy looked up again. She chuckled, balling up socks and tossing them into the basket. Tyra shook her head as baby socks were mixed in with G-strings and garter belts. "So how is it going with our esteemed brother-in-law? He behaving himself?"

She rolled her eyes. "I've only been there for about ten minutes with him."

"Yeah, he's working hard lately." Her sister sighed hard, biting at her lower lip. What, Tyra wondered. Mindy sighed again, distressed about something. She waited another moment, balling some more socks. Finally, she let her in on the distress. "He just works so hard, you know? He works hard and parties harder, I just worry he's going to…to do something stupid, you know? It's how he gets."

That's what we all worry about. We'll kill ourselves and worry ourselves into an early grave if we think about something enough. Tyra couldn't burden herself with those thoughts. She'd helped Tim when she could; worried for her friend, for someone she loved very much.

Right now she just…she didn't think she had the energy to keep worrying the way Mindy did about their brother-in-law. She lifted her shoulder in a silent shrug. That was Tim's issue, if he wanted to party hard. The beer in his fridge wasn't any more than there was in his fridge growing up. He seemed hungover for about two minutes this morning, when before it could last all day long.

Yes, there was the stripper, but Tyra knew Tim was a…contradiction. She set Sammy down, waiting for him to run back to Scotty, both of them settling with some toys, banging away at blocks and Legos. She turned her head back to Mindy, sliding back onto the kitchen stool. "Mindy you know Tim. He sleeps around only because he doesn't have someone he can marry and live with for the rest of his life."

The minute he finds that person, he'll be okay. He wants that whole…Tyra looked around the house. With its knickknacks and pictures on the walls. Little kid dishes and glasses in the sink. Some people want this, she thought, looking down at her fingers. She picked at the chipped paint. Not me. Never me. He wants this whole thing.

She tucked her hair behind her ear, clearing her throat, wishing for a change of subject. "So what's with Tim's little atlas thing he's got going on in his kitchen?" she asked.

Mindy frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"The postcards."

"Oh, those things. He didn't tell you?" Mindy carried the laundry basket out of the kitchen, glancing at the kids for a brief moment before disappearing into her bedroom. She returned, with another basket. How many clothes did she have to wash, Tyra thought. Mindy set the basket on the washer, starting to pluck things out and separate whites and darks, speaking over her shoulder. "They're from Lyla Garrity."

Should have known. Tyra frowned. "She's in the Peace Corps?"

"I don't know what she's doing, but she travels like insanely much doing things like building wells and schools and teaching English or something. Anyway, so she comes back last year for Easter. Her and Tim disappear and when he comes out of his house after a week and she leaves, he starts getting those cards. It's like a little obsession of his, it's cute." Mindy closed the washer, stepping out of the laundry room and going to the sink.

Tyra felt a little guilty for just sitting around, so she stood, going to help her load the dishwasher and put away the clean dishes. "She sends him cards?" That was kind of nice. She guessed.

"Yeah, I don't know what the deal is with them. He won't say. Just collects his cards and when he doesn't know where something is, he looks it up in that book he got."

"An atlas, Mindy." Tyra felt a little surge of jealousy in the back of her mind. Once again Lyla was living…living this cool life. She wasn't sixteen anymore, she didn't…she never had to be jealous. She pushed it aside. Lyla was traveling around doing what she wanted to do.

I'm doing what I wanted to do…sort of. Take time off. Reassess. Keep searching for a job. Keep applying to more schools. It would be fine.

It'd be fine, she repeated.

Mindy dried her hands off on a dishtowel, tossing it aside on the counter and placing her hand on her hip. "So what's on the agenda for you this summer? I don't want you sleeping with Tim the entire time. It'd be nice if you visited with me."

Tyra rolled her eyes. "I haven't slept with him in years Mindy."

"I really don't care. He's got his ways."

"He's doing his thing, I'm going to do mine. I'm his roommate, nothing more."

"Snack!" Mindy barked, opening up the fridge as three little boys instantly appeared at her feet. Tyra blinked. It was like she had a homing beacon on them. She began to set out celery sticks and peanut butter, speaking. "So you're going to be doing your thing and I was thinking…there's an opening for a bartender at Buddy's…"

"I am not working at Buddy's."

"No I didn't say you were, I'm saying, there's an opening for a bartender at Buddy's and Mom's been flirting it up with him for the last year and she's ready to make her move on the jackass again, so she's going to apply…if she gets it…" Mindy stepped away from the kitchen table, where the three boys were fighting over their 'ants on a log' snack.

She cocked her hip, lifting an eyebrow. Tyra wanted to point out that she forgot to wash her face completely last night and there was still glitter in her eyebrows. "If she gets it, I'm out a babysitter. The kids can't stay in the dressing room anymore."

The fact that the kids spent most of their early life in the dressing room of the Landing Strip disturbed Tyra a great deal, but so far there didn't appear to be lasting effects. She sighed. Babysitter for hire? "Isn't there anyone else?" Tyra glanced at a family photo on the wall.

It pained her slightly that Becky Sproles was included in the photo with her boyfriend or fiancé or something or other, standing off on the end. It was out on Tim's land. It was candid, not like it was staged, but…she sighed, shaking her head. She closed her eyes. "What about Becky?"

Mindy snorted, walking around the counter to the corner near the front window, rummaging at a desk. "Becky decided to follow her husband to wherever the military sent him."

"Well you know that's what wives and husbands do."

"She could have stayed. He's in Afghanistan or something right now."

Tyra frowned. "So Becky is in Afghanistan?" That didn't sound right.

"No, she's in Georgia." Mindy straightened up, holding a checkbook in one hand and a stack of bills in another. She shrugged again. "Whatever, she used to be the babysitter, but now I'm out if Mom decides to follow her dream to become a bartender."

"Mom might actually make an okay bartender, she does like drinking and she likes flirting and she likes talking." Actually, that was probably one of the more perfect jobs for Angela, but Tyra didn't like the idea of her working for Buddy Garrity again, seeing how it worked out the first time. Maybe now that he wasn't married it would go over better.

This wasn't the greatest thing in the world, but…what else was she going to do? Stevie would be in school three days a week anyway. If it happened at night, it wasn't going to be forever, just until Billy got home. It would save her from having to just sit around Tim's house alone, since it appeared as though he was working just about every hour of the day or at least, spending it with someone other than her.

She shrugged. "Okay."

"Okay?" Mindy squealed. She threw the checkbook and bills in the air, jumping up and clapping her hands. "Yay! Yay, yay, yay! Thank you Tyra! I love you so much!" You're just saying that because now you don't have to hire someone, Tyra thought with an eyeroll, hugging her sister who was threatening to strangle her.

After extricating herself from Mindy, Tyra collected her keys. "I'm going to go see Mom, maybe sit down at Tim's and go over my resume again, but at least I'll be getting a little bit of cash."

"Oh I'm not paying you as much as you think I will."

Tyra rolled her eyes. Yeah, she'd pay her. She hugged and kissed her sister goodbye, gave the boys big hugs and kisses, promising she'd see them later, and left the house, walking out to her car.

She climbed into the front seat, turning the ignition. Crickets. Damnit. Tyra hit her forehead to the steering wheel. "Please work," she begged to nothing. She lifted her face up, cringing and turning the key again, whispering "Please, please, please…"

A frustrated yell escaped her when it didn't start. "Crap." Tyra climbed out of the car, leaving it on the side of the lawn, going back up to the house. She leaned into the front door, calling for Mindy. "I need to borrow a car!"

"Get the truck!"

Not the truck, I thought I gave this thing up when I left! Ugh. Just her luck. Tyra took the keys from the rack beside the door, closing it behind her with a loud bang. She stood on the stoop, her hands on her hips, and stared down the faded orange old truck she'd driven in high school.

This thing, like Tim's truck, would probably be the last vehicles on this earth. We'll be driving them after the apocalypse. She sighed, trudging across the path and driveway to the truck, parked in the side yard, and got into the front seat. The engine was purring a second later.

"Yeah," Tyra said to herself, backing out of the driveway. She shoved her sunglasses on, mumbling. "I'm seriously going to kill myself here."

The truck rumbled off down the street. Onward to the next, she thought, reaching for her phone, which was buzzing. She stopped at the stop sign, so she could focus her attention on the text she'd just received.

It was from Tim, which was surreal, because she didn't know he texted. Or had a phone. Or had her number. Many questions, no answers. "What does Tim say," she wondered, opening up the text on her old flip phone, reading the letters.

'I need rent. First of the month.'

"Asshole," she said to the phone, throwing it aside, just as it buzzed again. She rolled her eyes, grabbing it and flicking it open, not looking at the caller ID, expecting it to be Tim. "Listen Riggins, I'm not paying you rent, I can't believe you even asked…"

"Whoa, whoa, Tyra, calm down, it's Julie."

Oh, Julie. She leaned back in the seat, waving her arm over the top of the truck to instruct someone behind her to go around. She was just going to spend half her day on the side of Dillon's roads. "What's up Julie?"

"Are you back in Dillon yet?"

She nodded, forgetting that she was on the phone with her old friend and not face-to-face. After a second of silence from Julie, she smacked her hand to her forehead. "Yeah, um…I'm back in Dillon. My degree in Psychology was worth it because now I'm a nanny to my nephews if my mom gets a job and I'm living with Tim Riggins, who wants rent, can you imagine that?"

"Well you are going to crash at his house for the indefinite future so…"

"Ugh, fine, be on his side."

Julie laughed. "I'm not on his side! Listen, I'm sorry that this is happening to you, it sucks, but even my mom said that the economy is crap and finding jobs for new graduates is getting harder and harder, but…anyways, I know you don't want to talk about that."

No, she really didn't want to talk about the economy and job market and how she still wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to do with her Psychology degree. The couple of internships she'd done hadn't amounted to jobs, because the schools weren't hiring. Ugh. It didn't matter right now. "So why'd you call? Not that I don't enjoy hearing from you," Tyra said.

"Well I called to say that Matt and I finally set a date, it's going to be October 22. We're doing it because Grandma's not doing so well, so Matt wants to make sure she's there. Since she can't travel, we're having it in Dillon. Which was why I called…"

Tyra smiled, closing her eyes and reaching to touch her fingers to her forehead, leaning on the open window. "What do you need me to do here for you?"

"I'll email you a list of things that might be easier if you did, since I can't get out to Dillon for another month or so, but, before I start on things, I was thinking maybe we could get married on Tim's land, but I need you to ask him," Julie said, squeaking out the request. Tyra could actually 'hear' her cringing. "Please."

It wasn't that big of a deal, Tyra didn't know why Julie seemed scared to ask it. "I think Tim won't care. He might charge you cover. Did you know he's a bouncer at the Landing Strip?"

"That makes sense actually."

"Unbelievable."

They talked for a few more minutes about wedding plans, how Julie didn't want to get married in a white dress but Tami was insisting and how it was only going to be a handful of people. "Including Landry," Julie warned her, before they disconnected. "He's Matt's best man and I want you to be my maid of honor."

"I can handle it." I will handle it, Tyra thought. It was her best friend's wedding. She'd…she'd cope. Julie didn't need to worry about her life. She cleared her throat. "I'll talk to you later, just email me. I still have my UT email account."

"Great, let me know what Tim says."

"Sure thing." Tyra hung up, staying in her spot on the road. She stared straight ahead. It was so strange. Julie was getting married, she'd graduated UT, Tim had four jobs, his house, and a strange fascination with postcards…Mindy was a mom with three beautiful children, and Billy Riggins won Dillon another championship.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw kids walking back from where a school bus had just let them off, wearing Dillon Panthers t-shirts and carrying around yellow and blue binders and notebooks. They all looked just like how she did. Just like how everyone else she knew did, from four years ago.

But they looked smaller now. Like little kids. She certainly wasn't a little kid anymore.

Tyra put the truck back into gear, driving around the corner, off to visit with her mother and hoping this day would go faster. One day down, she thought, turning onto the main road.


	4. Snooping Around

**A/N:**I hope people are enjoying this. I'm trying not to be too serious with everything, it alternates between serious and lighthearted, depending on the characters involved. Enjoy :-)

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_**Chapter 4: Snooping Around**_

"Why don't you have internet?" Tyra was getting used to speaking out loud. She was crouched beneath the desk in the living room area, wondering why it was in the living room and not in the front room where a study or dining room should probably be.

She shoved the cord into the phone jack, hooking it up to the router. It seemed every single time she moved from a dorm to an apartment to a dorm or wherever, she had to keep doing this. You think she'd remember exactly where every single cord went. "Aha!" she yelped, finally seeing the green lights flash on the router. "Perfect."

A few minutes later, after calling the cable company to activate the Internet, the weeklong project of acquiring Tim Riggins Internet in the middle of nowhere now completely, Tyra sat her laptop on the desk. She dragged one of the chairs from the kitchen to sit down and work on her resume. She set her papers neatly beside her, focusing. Four years at UT had taught her a crapload about organizing, more than she'd ever wanted to know before.

And she'd also found that she could only really focus when it was just quiet enough, but with a soft undercurrent of noise. So she turned on a fan beside her, the hum acting as the perfect undercurrent.

"Perfect," she mouthed, her fingers poised over the keyboard. She glanced down at the resume she'd sent out to about a thousand high schools around Austin, just for any sort of job in their counseling units. There was her "political" resume, which highlighted her time working on campaigns and for a couple of nonprofits she interned with during the school year.

Then there was her graduate school resume, which highlighted all her classes and papers. Three separate resumes, for three different things. Different paths.

Her mind began to wander, despite her familiar study setup and the low buzz of the fan. I can't do this right now. The first time in a week when she'd felt the urge to get some things done and she couldn't do it. It had been boring, but she'd spent her time laying on the couch eating junk food, watching TV, playing with her nephews, and trying to convince her mother not to work with Buddy Garrity.

I can't do this right now, she thought again. Tyra slammed the laptop screen down, shoving the papers back into her messenger bag, which was seated on the floor. She got up, snapping her fingers and walking around the living room a couple of times. "What do you do in your off time Tim other than drink and hook up with strippers?" she asked.

He'd been almost invisible for the last week. She saw him sometimes in the morning, when he was on his way out the door. Sometimes she heard him in the evening, usually not alone. Twice she'd seen the pink-haired Skye. Must be the flavor of the month.

Tyra tied her hair back into a ponytail, scanning the living room. "If I were Tim's hobby, what would I be other than drinking?" she said out loud, asking the house.

The house did not answer.

"If it did, I'd probably check myself into the hospital five minutes later." Tyra went upstairs, going into the room across from Tim's, which was her bedroom. The house wasn't that big. It had two rooms upstairs and one room downstairs that could serve as a bedroom if he felt like it. Or a study. Only two bathrooms, with one upstairs in Tim's room and the other downstairs, across from the laundry room, where she had to trudge in the middle of the night, since she wasn't going into Tim's room.

The entire house was still so sterile. Absolutely nothing was painted.

She'd been living out of her suitcases for the past week, so she set about unpacking them, putting everything in the two dressers that were in the room and cramming the cases beneath the bed. There was no closet. Maybe I'll find him a cheap armoire or something for this room. Tyra glanced from one end of it to the other. It needed something. She could see it as maybe light blue or light yellow, with white furniture. Like country inspired or something.

"I'll be his interior designer," she decided. Her taste had to be better than his. TV and couch, that was all Tim needed. Although his kitchen was nice. It was a little odd that he'd spent more money in that room of the house than the rest, but Tim was an odd duck. Tyra went into his bedroom, once she was done unpacking, and stood in the doorway, looking at the mess. A bed, two chairs, nightstand, and dresser. Clothes everywhere. Towels piled in a corner. "You probably have something living in here," she said. She picked up a laundry basket and started to throw things into them.

She threw the basket down a second later. "Good Lord, I am not doing his laundry."

Tyra looked at some things on his dresser. "I'm not snooping," she said out loud. Yeah, you are, her conscience replied. No I'm not I'm…I'm observing. This talking to herself was starting to worry her. She just wanted to know if Tim was still the same. Or what else he was up to, she guessed, picking up a receipt for beer, crumpled on the dresser with loose change, gum wrappers, and other pocket litter.

There was a picture of him and Billy in the corner of the dresser. From high school, Tim's hair was a bit shorter now than it was in the photo. There was another picture of the three boys wearing matching Dillon jerseys and baseball hats, seated on the sidelines. She adjusted both photographs, turning away and glancing down at his nightstand. She went over to the nightstand; there was nothing personal on either one flanking his bed. No photos, nothing.

Probably didn't want the conquests to see anything beyond what he wanted to show them, she psychoanalyzed. She loosely tugged open one of the drawers on the nightstand, which wasn't completely shut, peeking in and seeing a flashlight, condoms, and…

Tyra frowned, reaching down into the drawer and removing an upside down framed picture, turning it over. She touched the edge of it, staring. It was of Lyla Garrity, smiling wide and kneeling in dark red dirt, surrounded by a bunch of children, with wide smiles and bright eyes. One of them held up a little chalkboard "Ms. Garrity's Class, First Primer, May 2011 Graduation." Lyla was wearing what looked like a traditional outfit, made of beautiful vibrant multicolored threads, her dark hair pulled back in a matching scarf. She looked insanely happy.

She flicked open the back of the frame, reading the neat writing which matched the postcards from downstairs. "My first class graduating in Uganda. Thanks for the advice, because this it was worth everything. Love, Lyla." Tyra slipped the photo back into the drawer, closing it. She remained standing; lifting her face and staring out the window in front of her, watching clouds roll in. It was going to storm, she thought. She should check on the horse. Call Tim and find out what to do with the thing, since he hadn't bothered so far.

I don't even really like dogs, what am I going to do with a horse?

"Can I help you with something?"

"Shit!" She jumped, turning on her heel and stumbling a little, using the nightstand to catch her balance. Tim was standing in the doorway, watching her. She scowled. "How long have you been standing there?"

He narrowed his eyes, frowning. It was a very icy look on him and Tyra instantly felt guilty. It reminded her of the looks he'd give her when she come back after he'd been in jail. His eyes darted towards the nightstand. "Long enough," he snapped.

"Tim…"

"I know it's been a week, but I've got a rule and it's if you're gonna' live here, you don't go through my stuff," he said, his words frosty. He tossed his road crew t-shirt into a pile of other neon colored shirts and vests at the foot of the bed. She stepped aside as he opened up the drawer, carefully removing the picture she'd just put back and walked it to the dresser, setting it out beside the one of him and Billy. He gave her another cool look. "Don't touch my stuff."

Tyra rolled her eyes; her cheeks flushed pink, slightly embarrassed. She didn't expect him home so soon. That still didn't give her a right to go nosing around through his stuff though. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice soft. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I just saw it open…"

"So you thought you'd go looking?" he walked by her again, going into the bathroom and closing the door. He yelled through the door. "I have to go to work at the bar, are you going to come or not?"

He'd worked at the bar and the strip joints since she'd been back, but she hadn't joined him at either, choosing to spend her nights at home drinking alone. Given how useless she felt right now, she shrugged. Why the hell not? Tyra called out in response. "Sure, I guess."

He walked out a second later, a towel wrapped around his waist. He leaned on the doorframe, pointing towards her, his voice deadly serious and his face impassive. "Don't go through my stuff Tyra." He paused, his voice dropping a decibel. "Especially not her stuff."

Her stuff? What the hell was he talking about? She frowned. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Just…look I'm not going to ask why you're back. But…just… He shook his head, whispering. "You can stay here, I don't really care, but…just…figure your stuff out."

Asshole, she thought, when he closed the door and flicked the lock behind him. What did he think she was going to do? Go in after him? She rolled her eyes again, feeling defensive. It was a bad day when Tim was telling her to figure her life out. Wait…a surge of anger coursed over her. Seriously? He was telling her to figure her life out?

She wanted to scream at him. Do you think it's easy to do this? You would know. You knew what it was like, wandering around trying to figure yourself out and what you wanted. I know because I helped you, she wanted to yell. I stayed extra after Christmas! She missed the first week of classes and remained in Dillon with him, to make sure he was okay with Billy and he wasn't going to do something stupid like run off or get into a big fight.

She thought it, not wanting to think it, but…I helped you, so why can't you help me?

Going out to the bar…what a very Dillon thing to do at night. She better go get ready. Right now she did want to go out. She wanted to go out and drink and just forget. Tyra turned around quickly, immediately spying a box underneath the nightstand. She walked towards it, kneeling and staring at it, but not touching. Her stuff, she thought, glancing over her shoulder.

The shower was running and she heard whistling. "Don't do it," she mouthed, reaching for the box and flicked it open. She was really only listening to the devil on her shoulder today. Angel? What angel? Tim had flat out told her not to go through his things, which was just common sense and polite manners anyway, but now here she was, about to go through his things after he'd expressly told her no.

She lifted the lid, peering inside. It was full of little knickknacks and pictures. A carved wooden elephant. A woven bracelet with tons of different colored thread. A jade Buddha. Prayer beads.

Things that Tyra knew Tim would never lay out in public, but would hold very close to his heart. He did that with some things sometimes. She learned in school that children whose parents abandoned them tended to hoard. They hoarded memories. The photos were the same. There were some pictures of Jason, definitely recent, since he had a beard and was with a pretty redhead and adorable little boy standing beside his chair. Some of Lyla, in other countries and one in particular that Tyra immediately wanted to blow up and put in the front hall. It was of Tim's house, just the skeleton of it and the sun setting behind it. It was gorgeous.

She took it, sliding it into her pocket. He's going to kill me and bury me out here where no one will ever know, but she didn't care. She closed the box, standing up and left his room.

Her forehead dropped to the closed bedroom door, her eyes fluttering shut. Tim had his life, what was she doing here, trying to mess it up or something? She wanted a drink. She wanted to stop thinking. Just, just stop, it was getting too difficult. There was too much to do and this isn't me, she screamed inside. I don't do these things, I don't kiss people's asses trying to get jobs, if they want me on my merits then fine, but I don't…I just wish someone could understand.

There was no one who understood right now. She turned quickly, angrily stripping off her tank top and jeans, slipping into a short black leather skirt and a billowy silver halter-top, which showed off her shoulders, back, and cleavage. She peered into her lighted stand mirror, furiously applying makeup to her eyelids, cheeks, and lips. Mousse went through her fingers into her hair; she styled it back, teased it, and began to search for jewelry.

A few bangles, necklaces, rings, and earrings later, she was ready to go. She shoved her feet into impractical heels, which added an extra four inches of height she didn't need and dropped her phone and some cash into a clutch purse, walking down the stairs.

At the door, she heard a low whistle behind her. "Wow," Tim said, giving her a look up and down. Sizing her up. She recognized that look, heading it off at the pass.

"Relax, you're not getting any of this," she warned him, walking out of the house. She held up her finger, warning him again. An eyebrow arched. "Rule number one with me as a roommate Riggins. I'm sorry about going through your stuff and I won't question your life, and in return…" She flashed a smile. "You don't question mine. Deal?"

He frowned, but nodded. "Deal."

Deal. Tyra turned away from him, climbing into the truck. She drove off, ignoring his stare at her taillights. She wouldn't look at herself in the mirror. She felt like crap. She didn't want to think.

I forgot to ask him about Julie and Matt's wedding. Again. Julie was starting to grow annoyed when she kept texting to confirm. Later, I'll do it later.

Tyra hit the accelerator, heading towards the bar. She needed a distraction.

Men had always proven to be a great distraction for her.


	5. Riding Around

**A/N:**Thank you for the review :) I hope people are continuing to enjoy this.

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_**Chapter 5: Riding Around**_

"Ow…"

"Wake up sleepy-head."

I can't. My head hurts. The sun. Ouch. Where am I?

"Revenge is best served cold."

Who the hell was talking? It sounded like Tim. Why would it be Tim? What was he…SHIT! Tyra screamed, jumping up in the bed and grabbing the quilt with her, holding it over her chest and flung water out of her eyes. It was like ice! "Jesus!" she yelled, staring at Tim at the foot of her bed. She glared at him, cold water dripping off her bangs and nose onto the quilt. "Come on Tim! What was that for?"

"Needed to wake you up. Other way wouldn't have been good," Tim said, flashing a quick smile. He took a sip of the water bottle in his hand, swallowing and gesturing towards the door. "It's noon. Thought you might want to get up." He lifted his eyebrow, slightly judgmental. "It's been day four of this."

Yeah, so? Four days of drinking through the night, you don't do that either? What, just because you didn't score last night, you think you can come in here and wake me up by pouring cold water on me, she thought, grumbling. "What are you doing here?" she mumbled. Tyra rubbed water from her eyes. The cold was burning them. "Hmmm..." she mumbled, rocking on her heels. She blinked a few times, refocusing on him. She frowned. "What about work?"

"Newsflash Tyra, you've been partying all week, it's now Saturday, and I'm off Saturday mornings. Got the strip joint tonight though, now come on, I want to show you something."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

Tyra burrowed beneath the quilt, mumbling into her pillow. "Because I'm going to die here." For the fourth day in a row. She swore each morning wasn't this bad, she must have really tied one down last night. They'd gone to the football game and then she'd gone to Buddy's, where Tim was training her mother on bartending, and she must have been drinking all the drinks that Angela messed up on.

"You're not going to die. It's a hangover, come on Collette, you've had worse."

Not really, no, she wasn't sure she had. In college she went to parties, sure, she was experiencing that whole life, yeah…but she hadn't been drinking like she had last night, where she had nothing to lose, dancing with every single drunk and cowboy only to have…oh God, she moaned, lowering the quilt slightly and peering up at him. A memory flashed, vague, in her mind. "Did I kiss you last night?" she whispered. Please tell me I didn't kiss you.

All she remembered was kissing someone. Getting super drunk, running around, and she'd tried to kiss someone. She sort of remembered crashing into something afterward, like she'd fallen or something.

Tim winced, rubbing his hand through his hair, forcing it to stick up. "Ah…not really, no, you didn't kiss me."

I just remember kissing someone, so who did I kiss? She wiped at her face. A wave of nausea washed over her. "I'm going to puke," she whispered, sitting up slowly. She didn't even care that all she was wearing right now was underwear and Tim was still standing in her room. She lifted her face, frowning again. "I really think I'm going to puke."

"Yeah, well I would too if I kissed Buddy Garrity."

That was all she needed for her brain to finally send the signal to her stomach. "Oh my God!" She pushed him out of the way, running into his bedroom and into the bathroom, throwing the door closed behind her and coughing over the toilet. She hung her head against it, moaning in pain. Physical and mental pain.

It was starting to come back to her. She was dancing, she was drunk, and she was dizzy. Billy had said something about how he didn't care what she was doing, so long as she didn't kiss or sleep with Tim, because he didn't want to deal with Mindy's reaction. So she'd laughed, saying she'd kiss Tim and she'd…oh she'd missed by like a mile, grabbing Buddy instead. Tyra closed her eyes. I am going to kill myself.

"If it makes you feel better Tyra, your mom thought it was funny. So did you, because you laughed and then tried to kiss me, but missed and hit the wall."

She puked again, while Tim laughed, the terrible traitor friend. He knelt down, pulling her hair back, whispering into her ear. "It's okay Tyra, the hangover expert is here to help." He patted her back, while she groaned, getting up and leaving her to her death.

About an hour later, she was cleaned up, had fresh breath, and was sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee, a package of peas against her forehead to ward off the headache that the ibuprofen wasn't helping with. Tim was whistling behind her, doing dishes.

"Tim," she croaked, lowering the cup of coffee from her lips to the table. The peas dropped to the table with a smash. She turned her head slowly, glaring at him over her shoulder. "Shut up. So help me God, just shut up." Her hands ran over her face, scrubbing lightly.

What am I going to do with myself?

"Did you get me internet?"

"Yes," she mumbled. Like a week ago.

"How much is that costing me? You also left the light on the porch on all night last night. That's going to be expensive and I still need that rent check." There was nothing worse than someone who finally realized how much things were costing them. Things that they took for granted before. You must be a millionaire, with all those jobs and suddenly frugal tendencies. Tyra sipped her coffee, listening to silence as Tim listened to her and stopped making noise.

He came around to the side of the table, helping her up from the chair. "Come on," he said, his arm around her, walking her out like she was a senior citizen. "I want to show you something. You feeling better?"

"The fresh air is nice."

"Yes, it is nice, the smell might not be, but come on." Tim carefully led her to the little barn set-up he had, with the paddock for the horse. Belle, she remembered. The horse was called Belle. Tyra was beginning to feel much better. Everything was kicking in now. Coffee, pills, and fresh air. All she needed now was to lose her memory. That would be good.

She leaned against the paddock, watching while Tim went into the barn, emerging with a blanket over his arms. She climbed onto the railing, leaning back, her boot heels hooked into the bars, watching in silence. Tim set the blanket over the horse's back, coming and going with various pieces of tack, saddling her up.

He held the pommel with one hand, turning and gesturing for her to come off the fence. "I'll stay here," Tyra suggested.

"No, come here."

"No."

"Yes."

"No," she said loudly, jumping when Belle nickered, moving sideways a little from the loud sound. Tim scowled. He wasn't going to quit. Fine. Tyra hopped off the fence, walking over and giving Belle a hard look up and down. "She won't bite me or anything?"

Tim shook his head, setting her hand on the pommel. "Hold there." He placed his hand on top of hers, using it for leverage as he swung himself up into the saddle. He reached his hand down. "Come on, you'll be fine, just put your foot in the thing."

The thing? It's called a stirrup, Tim. "Who taught you this stuff?"

"Guy on my construction crew. I got Belle from him. Just get up here Tyra!"

"I'm trying!" She couldn't hoist herself up for some reason. Tim rolled his eyes, grabbing her around her ass, pulling her up as best as he could. This was comical. Tyra crawled over the back of the horse, who was moving around, nervous by the sudden weight and commotion. "This is not graceful!"

"No one said you were graceful, get your butt…" Tim twisted in the saddle, looking over his shoulder at her as she tossed hair from her eyes. She felt like she was going to barf again from all the movement. He narrowed his eyes. "You finally settled?"

"My ass hurts, I'm right on the back of the saddle."

"Well I've got stuff up here that I don't want smashed against the pommel, so your ass is just gonna' have to hurt."

Tyra pushed herself against his back, effectively smashing said stuff against the pommel, which had Tim hissing in pain. She smiled sweetly up at him, her arms around him. "This is fun." This was not fun. She looked down, swallowing hard. It was very high up. "So um, you know how to do this thing?"

"Yes, I know how to do this. Come on Belle. Good girl." Tim held the reins loosely in his hands, walking Belle out of the paddock and down a slope of the land, towards…well towards everything. It was all in front of them, just absolutely nothing.

The sun was up, beaming over everything. It was beautiful. Tyra tightened her arms around Tim's waist as Belle's pace quickened. She swallowed again, her eyes wide. "Um, Tim, we can…we can slow down, I mean…no hurry…"

This was very high and we are going very fast, she thought, panicking and squeezing him hard, her eyes clenching shut. "Ah!" she yelped as he laughed, sending Belle into a canter away from the house. "Tim! Too fast!"

"This isn't fast enough!" He looked over his shoulder briefly, smiling like a dumb and happy idiot. "Besides, I want you to see this."

See what? My eyes are shut. I'm not opening them until we stop. She opened them a second later, because otherwise she was going to barf again. It was really pretty. Tyra focused on the horizon, watching it move slightly as they ran off from the house towards…something.

A few minutes later, Tim slowed Belle down, finally coming to a hard stop in front of a pond. I didn't know you had a pond here. Tyra watched him hop off the horse. She looked down. "This is high."

"You're such a girl." Tim held his arms out, helping her down off the horse. He smiled, his fingers drifting over her wrists. "Hi," he whispered. In that husky, bedroom voice of his, she thought, closing her eyes quickly. She lifted her eyebrow, silently warning him.

I don't like this, she thought, twisting her fingers over his wrists, smiling briefly. Boundaries, Tim. "Hi," she whispered, looking over his shoulder at the pond. It was beautiful. The sun was just high enough that it cast a shadow over the trees onto the pond, glimmering as the light wind sent soft ripples from the center towards the edge, a few feet away from her boots.

Not letting go of Tim, she kept her attention on the land. The burnished grass, the tall weeds…the scrub trees and the crystal blue sky. This was his home. She loved it too, she found it to be breathtaking sometimes, but…she bit her lower lip, turning her face up to his. His eyes were closed. Taking it in. This was beautiful, but I don't want it, she thought, letting go of his wrists.

He stepped back, his eyes opening. "Relax," he whispered, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles, letting go and letting her hand swing down against her thigh. He wiggled his eyebrows. "I've got it Tyra. I'm not stupid."

I hope you do get it and I know you're not stupid. Tyra walked with him to the edge of the pond, watching the water lap at the toes of her battered boots. She felt her skin warm, but the breeze was just enough to keep her from sweating. It brushed through her hair, like fingers. Relaxing.

This is what you wanted me to see, she thought, looking out over the pond again. "Where does your land end?" she whispered, glancing from side to side.

Tim pointed across the pond. "See that tower out there? Old oil pump. That's the line. County owns it and everything out after it."

Sizeable amount of land, she couldn't remember how many acres he'd gotten. It seemed to stretch in so many directions, since his house was right on the side of it all, looking out at everything.

"It's gorgeous. I'm so glad you stayed." You could be in the frozen tundra of Alaska right now. Bitter, angry, and frozen. I'm glad you're not. She bit her lip, lifting her face to his again. They were both the same height, she didn't have to look up or down with him. It was nice. Equals. They were always equals, always very much the same.

He nodded in agreement, his hands on his hips. The faded red plaid shirt tugged at his shoulders. "Yeah," he sighed. He smiled, his lips pursing a little. "I'm thinking of going somewhere though."

"Going? Where?"

He quirked his lip again, whispering. "Don't act like you don't know who those cards are from Tyra. I know Mindy probably told you."

Tyra shrugged. She still didn't know what they were. Didn't know what the knickknacks were all about. Her stuff, he'd said. I just don't want you to get hurt. She sighed, whispering. "Lyla Garrity, Tim?"

"Hmm." Now he didn't want to talk about it. Well too bad, you opened that door when you mentioned the postcards.

"I just don't want you to get hurt, Tim. Did she ever come back after you got out of jail?" Don't answer that. It wasn't right of me to mention it. Not my business. She crossed her arms over her chest, stepping away. She didn't know what happened between the two of them. Probably similar to what happened with her and Landry. You just grew out of each other. Moved on to other things. Different things. Although she figured maybe Lyla had handled saying goodbye to Tim a bit more differently than she had said goodbye to Landry…by not even saying goodbye at all.

I need to find Landry, she thought, closing her eyes briefly. I need to talk to him at the wedding for sure. I have to talk to him about what happened. Maybe now that she knew better. She lifted her eyes to Tim, who was ignoring her, walking along the edge of the pond. She followed him, stopping when he did.

He knelt down at the water, drifting his fingers in it, whispering. "She visited me. The cards are…" He ran his tongue over his teeth, glancing down at the water, finally lifting his face to hers. He swallowed hard. "It's her way of talking."

That didn't make sense to her, but it clearly did to him. She was sure there was more to it, but she didn't need to know. It wasn't her business. She shook her head, whispering. "I just don't know why you…you get like the way you do around her."

A moment ago you looked ready to kiss me, helping me off the horse. You wanted me to stay here, mentioned us maybe ending up together, when I came back a few years ago. If I said yes, right now, I'd stay with you, you would immediately be happy and let me, but…Tyra didn't understand it. She didn't understand why someone would be so…involved that way with someone else. Maybe that was why she wanted a career and not a husband.

Tim stood up from the water, his hands going into his pockets. He turned his face to her, smiling a little. He wouldn't ever answer, she knew that. "I think…" He smiled again, positively serene. He dug the toe of his boot into the mud. "I'm thinking of going, just to visit her…she's…she gets breaks and stuff, usually doesn't come back, she…she goes to this place in France when she's on her break. I just…" He sighed again, whispering. "It won't be forever. This place will always be here for me to come back." He made a face, smiling wide. "Plus can you see me in Europe?"

"No, I really can't," she said. She chuckled. Good for you though Tim. She smiled. "When are you going to go?"

"Dunno." He fiddled with his fingers, shrugging and whispering. "I have what I want, Tyra." He smiled again, lifting his eyebrow, studying her for a moment. She didn't like the look he was giving her. Watching her, waiting for her to do something. He shook his head again. "Guess it doesn't matter. I got what I want. Maybe it's time to give someone else what she wants."

That was very mature of you, very…grown-up. Tyra liked it on him. Liked the maturity. Someone who followed-through now. She looked down at her feet and back up again, whispering. "You're a far cry from the boy I knew in high school."

"And you," he replied, looking down at her, still smiling. He whispered. "Are a far cry from the girl I knew."

Sometimes I'm not so sure. Look how I was last night, turning to men and drinking to cope with my problems. One week back in Dillon and that's how I am, geez. Tyra pushed her fingers through her hair, shrugging, but said nothing. It was getting to serious here. She pushed her hand into her forehead, suddenly remembering. She closed her eyes. "Crap, I forgot, Julie and Matt want to get married here."

"Here? Here where?"

"Here, your land here, they want to get married. October 22."

"That's in like a month."

"Two months, Tim, it's only September 5."

"Oh. They can get all that stuff in two months?" He frowned, his hands on his hips. "Took Mindy and Billy like a year."

Something tells me Matt and Julie's little ceremony is not going to be the white trash-fest that was my sister's wedding. As fun as it was. Tyra shook her head, chuckling. "It's just going to be small. She'll let me know stuff if you say yes." She flashed a grin. "Please say yes."

He frowned again. "I don't like people on my land."

"Don't turn into a hermit, Tim. Let them have their wedding here."

Tim shrugged, looking out at the pond. "Fine," he sighed. He shrugged. "I guess they can have their wedding here."

"Perfect!" She made a mental note to call Julie. What remained of her headache was fading away. She glanced sideways at Tim again. She smiled. "I know it's been a…a very weird week, but…thanks for letting me stay."

Tim shrugged again. He knelt down to the edge of the pond, picking up a stone. He tossed it in his hands for a few seconds, swinging his arm forward to skip it across the water. After he finished swaying for a few minutes, he smiled at her. "Sure. What are friends for, huh?"

Friends, yeah. She reached for him, wrapping her arms around his neck, holding for a brief moment. "I love you," she whispered, kissing his cheek and patting his chest, letting go after a moment. She did love him. She just wouldn't ever end up married to him and having Riggins kids like her sister.

That wasn't the plan. Right now the plan was changing, but that wasn't her plan. She smiled at him out of the corner of her eye. Besides, to him, she was just…just someone to love, because he was a serial monogamist when it was the right person. Comfortable, that's what she was to him.

He didn't say anything, kneeling to skip a few more stones. While he stood with his thoughts, she went to the horse, studying the creature. Belle looked at her with a big dark eye, sizing her up. People said horses were very intuitive creatures. They knew when trouble was coming and ran from it. They sometimes could sense natural disasters like earthquakes or tornados and they knew when people were nervous or scared.

Tyra lifted her hand to touch at the horse's face, a deep chestnut, with a black mane. She yelped, closing her mouth instant when Belle whinnied, stomping her feet in the dirt. She took a deep breath, reaching back out again. "Nice….nice horse," she murmured, cringing when Belle lifted her muzzle, knocking into her wrist.

Wow, that was soft. Tyra dropped her hand completely to Belle's forehead, stroking down between her eyes and to her nose. It was really soft, she marveled, running back up to the coarse mane. Belle closed her eyes halfway, almost sighing in pleasure, like a dog. She smiled. "Nice horse."

"Okay, we can go."

Just when I was getting used to this thing? Tyra glanced at Tim, who reached to adjust the saddle. "So you have a horse, huh?"

"No Tyra, I have a dinosaur."

She ignored his sarcasm. "I think it's funny. I always pictured you as having a big stupid dog or something. The canine version of you."

"I had a dog." Tim shrugged, shaking his head. He smiled a little. "But I wasn't around enough to take care of him, so Lyla took him, gave him to some school to be a therapy pet. Can you imagine?"

I actually can imagine that. Tyra smiled a little, still running her fingers over Belle's nose. It was pretty therapeutic for herself. She pursed her lips, waiting a moment. She cleared her throat. "So she graduated Vanderbilt, huh?"

"Graduated a year early. Been traveling ever since," he whispered.

"Peace Corps? I thought they stayed in one place for awhile."

"Hmm…I don't know. Some teacher thing, she teaches in Africa mostly." He tossed his hair from his eyes, flashing her a quick smile. "I'm not with her, Tyra." He frowned a little, his brow wrinkling. "Not like that. We're…we just are. Not together. If ever."

So you can still sleep with strippers and party, she guessed he was trying to say without trying to say it. It wasn't her business, so she merely shrugged, staying out of it. She continued to rub at Belle, while Tim finished tightening Belle's saddle and fixing her reins.

They rode back in silence, at a slower pace than they had going out to the pond. It was hotter than hell, even if it was September. Tyra couldn't wait for it to cool off; she actually enjoyed Texas in the fall.

She went up into the house, letting Tim rub down Belle and put her out to pasture with her oats or whatever it was horses ate. She picked up her phone, which had been charging on the counter, sending Julie a text that it was a go and opening up her computer next to her, responding to a few emails friends from UT.

It blew, since a couple of girls from her freshman dorm were starting jobs and another was beginning law school. One of her roommates who was getting her Master's at UT said there were some drop-outs in her psychology program, maybe Tyra wanted to call the advisor and department chair to maybe sneak in?

I don't know if I want psychology. I want counseling or higher education or something. Tyra kind of had her ideal career in mind, it just…it wasn't something already out there yet. She wanted to be Mrs. Taylor, but on a bigger scale, that was what she had in her mind.

She wanted to help people, but not like Lyla Garrity, wandering through Africa. Tyra wanted to help people like her, like how she was. But she wasn't sure she wanted to stick around Dillon to do it. She wanted to help make decisions, like an administrator, or like a lobbyist or something.

What I want is so many things. Tyra reached her phone up to her lips, nibbling at the corner, her arm stretched over her stomach. She jumped, startled when it buzzed. She flicked it open, staring at Julie's "Yay! I just sent you an email."

"Okay," Tyra drawled, logging into the UT email system and clicking on Julie's University of Chicago email address. She stared, wide-eyed as a list of tasks awaited her. She leaned forward on the counter, narrowing her eyes and reading out loud. "Call florist for blue flowers. No roses or cheesy ones. Check on caterers, who does cheap weddings? About twenty people, no chairs, but get tables for reception. Does Tim have room for bridal party? Want to stay there the night before…talk to my mom about dresses and fittings…" This was the most random and stream-of-conscious list she'd ever seen in her life.

Julie clearly wasn't thinking about this the way brides thought of weddings and why should she? She was in school, focusing on her future, and marriage was what mattered to Julie, Tyra thought. This was just a wedding.

Yeah, but a wedding was still a big thing. Tyra opened up her phone, scrolling through her contacts and hit a number she hadn't called in some time. It rang a few times, a voicemail picking up. She waited for the beep, smiling wide when she spoke, unable to help herself. "Hey Mrs. T, it's Tyra Collette, um…sorry I haven't called you, I wanted to thank you for the graduation card and flowers you sent me in May…um, I'm back in Dillon now…just kind of waiting for a job to come along and reapply to school and stuff, but Julie is sending me stuff for the wedding and I'm going to help her on this end, but it makes no sense, I wanted to talk to you about it, I'm thinking I should just plan the thing, what do you think? Let me know, hope you're…" Tyra sighed, whispering. "Hope you and Coach are doing well. Bye."

She flicked the phone shut, setting it aside and turned to her computer, opening up another resume. "What are you doing?" Tim asked, walking over to lean over her shoulder.

"Ew! Get away, you smell like horse poop."

"I mucked the stall, what are you doing?"

"Looking for my future."

Tim went to the fridge, opening it up and removing a bottle of water. He uncapped it, sipping for a few seconds. His brow furrowed. "Thought you knew what you wanted Tyra? What's taking you so long?"

He turned around, leaving the kitchen and whistling, on his way upstairs to shower, she hoped. Tyra sighed, leaning back against the counter again. Yeah, she thought, looking at the resume for application to UT's social work program.

She deleted the thing, closing the laptop again. Only to wait another minute, open it back up, and begin to type out her name and address at the top of the page. I cannot stay here, planning weddings for the next year. I have got to get this figured out.

Social work, she thought, copying and pasting the paragraph she'd written about her internship with Travis County Social Services. It had been miserable and depressing work, but in the end she hadn't ruled it out as a future.

I have too many plans and just need to narrow them down, she thought, shaking her head and typing.


	6. Driving Around Stevie

**A/N:**I've had like no reviews on this fic, so I really hope that this fic is going over well with the readers. I know there's not many Tyra stand alone fics out there, but I thought I'd give it a go. There are 19 chapters as it is written and completed now and I will post every other day. Enjoy :)

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_**Chapter 6: Driving Around Stevie**_

"Please bring me an acceptance letter," Tyra mumbled, slyly kissing the top of the envelopes in her hands, shoving them into the slot of the mailbox outside of the grocery store. She held Stevie's hand, watching as the thick envelopes disappeared into the metal box.

Say bye-bye, she thought, glancing down at Stevie. He was peering around, looking at the cars passing them on the street. He looked up, holding up his free hand, with four fingers up. " Four blue cars," he announced.

"Are you counting cars?"

"Two green cars."

Stevie was an odd little duck. Today he'd insisted on wearing blue socks with his red shorts and white t-shirt and his little Teva strap sandals. He was a little old man, with socks and sandals. "We need to get you some cowboy boots," she said, walking with him from the mailbox to the car.

He was already shaking his head. "No, no cowboy boots."

"Uncle Tim wears cowboy boots."

"Uncle Tim has long hair like a girl. He needs to cut it."

Uncle Tim does need to cut his hair, it was getting long, Tyra agreed. She lifted Stevie up into her arms, setting him in his booster seat in the back of the minivan Mindy and Billy bought after the twins were born. While she tucked him in, he fiddled with a strand of her hair that still had a large chunk of red. "What color is your real hair?" he asked.

She almost didn't know anymore, she'd been dying it for so long now. "Blonde," she answered, straightening up and tugging on a strand of his hair, which curled into a cowlick no matter how much water or in Mindy's case, hairspray, you used to try to tamp it down. "Like yours."

He giggled, waiting for her to climb into the front seat of the giant minivan, she absolutely hated driving, but she had to get the twins later and it wasn't practical to cart Stevie around in the truck, with him still as little as he was in a front seat.

Stevie leaned forward in his seat, which was set between each of the twins' seats. "Aunt Tyra."

"Yes Stevie?"

"Do you live here now?"

Oh Lord. She sighed, leaning back in the seat, driving away from the grocery store and towards the bakery where Julie wanted to get her cake. She punched a button on the dashboard of the minivan, which had enough electronics it could probably fly them to the moon. Some sort of Baby Einstein song began to sing from the speakers. "I don't live here for good," she said.

He was five; he didn't know what that meant. Sure enough, he frowned, his tiny nose wrinkling. "Oh, but…you live in Uncle Tim's house?"

"Yeah, but…but I'm going to move soon. Once I get a job. Like Daddy and Mommy have jobs."

"Daddy coaches."

"Yes, he does."

"Mommy takes her clothes off."

Tyra rolled her eyes. They really, really had to start telling Stevie that Mommy just danced or she worked at a bar or something. She cleared her throat, glancing in the rearview mirror at her little nephew. "Mommy manages a bar, sweetie. She's a manager. Just say that." Mindy did practically run the Landing Strip. How else could Tim have gotten a job there, she thought.

"Oh. Okay." Stevie slapped his hands on his knees, kicking his feet up onto the console between the front seats. "I'm going to be a pilot when I grow up!"

That might be fun. "Yeah? Not a football player?" she teased. She turned into the parking lot of the bakery, bringing the minivan to a stop in front of it. She unbuckled her seatbelt, turning to look at Stevie. He was so sweet. He shook his head quickly in a negative response. She lifted her eyebrow. "No? No football?"

"Well maybe," he hedged; he'd probably already been lectured by his father and uncle that he would follow in the Riggins tradition of playing football and winning a championship. If his size right now was any indication, Tyra figured he'd end up looking a bit like Tim. He already had his kind of damaged, Byronic hero type of looks. Although while Tim always looked like he was sad when he wasn't smiling, Stevie always looked like he was thinking about some big philosophic question.

Tyra smiled, turning back in her seat, reaching for her bag and slinging it over her shoulder to bounce against her hip, crosswise. She removed him from the backseat, taking his hand, continuing the conversation. "You want to travel, huh?"

"Uh-huh, Uncle Tim has…has a girrrrlfriend," Stevie drawled, dragging out the 'r' like it was a big gross thing. He was five, so of course girls were gross to him. He giggled, stepping carefully up onto the sidewalk in front of the bakery. "She…she flies," he huffed, keeping up with her as they walked down towards the front door.

Must be talking about Lyla Garrity. Funny how Stevie referred to her as Tim's girlfriend. "Yeah? You met her?" she asked, opening up the door into the bakery. She was instantly assailed by smells of sugar, flower, and chocolate. Ugh, she could curl up inside one of those cupcakes and die, she thought, zeroing in on a particularly large chocolate and vanilla one with a swirly chocolate design in the frosting.

Maybe she'd get some for the boys later. She'd pass them to Billy that evening all hopped up on sugar. Stevie looked up at her, nodding and answering her question. "Yes, she's nice. She got me a lollyphant for my wall."

"Yeah?" I have no idea what you're saying now, as Stevie devolved into mindless chatter about lollyphants. She assumed those were elephants. She approached the counter, leaning against it and smiling. "Hi, I have an order for a wedding in a few weeks? Taylor-Saracen? I also needed to drop off the deposit. It's for a two-tier chocolate crunch cake."

The girl behind the counter wore a Dillon Panther cheerleader t-shirt and had her hair up high enough to be considered one, with blue and yellow ribbons around the elastic tie. Tyra glanced at the signs in the window, proclaiming the bakery a Panther Proud establishment, whatever that meant. She hadn't been to a game yet, although Mindy had wanted her to go, just to "experience."

I experienced that stuff while I was in high school, I don't need to do it now that I'm out. Mindy kept saying maybe she could talk to the teachers, maybe get a job as a teacher aide or something. You're not going to start off as a guidance counselor immediately, Mindy warned her. You need to pay your dues.

I am paying my dues, Tyra wanted to yell, waiting on the Panther cheerleader to search for the paperwork to start the order. She let go of Stevie's hand, letting him wander about the bakery exploring. "So you want one two-tired chocolate crunch cake with chocolate icing…" the girl, whose nametag said "Violet" on it.

Cool name, Tyra thought, it was pretty. "Yeah," she answered. She followed along with the order form the girl walked through, did she need silverware, all that stuff. Violet showed her the toppers, but Julie expressly stated she didn't want the stupid little bride and groom on top, so Tyra declined to see them, although she thought that would be kind of funny to put something on top that wasn't really traditional.

Like an action figure or something, she thought with a small smile. "Okay, looks like we have everything," Violet said, signing off on the bottom of the order slip. She turned it around, tapping a line with the pen. "I just need you to sign there please Ms. Taylor."

"Oh I'm not…" Tyra sighed. She signed the bottom of the slip as Julie, filled in the blank check that Julie sent her, and paid for half a dozen cupcakes with a little sugar "P" stabbed into the top of the blue and yellow icing. "Come on Stevie," she called, glancing over at where he was climbing on top of chairs.

Stevie hopped off, hurrying to join her. "Can I have a cupcake?" he asked.

"Not yet, when we get your brothers."

They weren't to the car yet when Stevie let out a scream, letting go of her hand and running away. Tyra's eye widened. "Stevie!" she screamed, dropping the box on the hood of the car, running after him.

"Steven!" Tim yelled, grabbing Stevie after Stevie had just darted across a road between the two different strip malls, spinning him up and then setting him on the ground, kneeling and frowning. "Don't run across the street kid!"

Oh my God that was terrifying. Tyra covered her face with her hands, scrubbing quickly, kneeling down to check Stevie for bumps and bruises, but he was fine, just sniffling and fighting back tears. "Oh honey," she sighed, wrapping her arms around him, squeezing quickly. "I'm sorry I scared you, but you can't run across the street, okay?"

"Wanted to see Uncle Tim," Stevie mumbled, his eyes rolling towards Tim. He sniffed, wiping his nose. "I'm sorry."

The both of them exchanged a look, finally smiling. Tim stood, picking Stevie up. "Want to spend the rest of the day with me?" he asked, patting his back. He reached into his pocket, removing a woven bracelet with "STEVIE" embroidered in it. "Got something for you from Miss Lyla."

"Ooh," Stevie cooed, his eyes widening at the little elephant embroidered on either side of his name. He held his wrist out and Tyra helped Tim to tie it around his small wrist twice. He shook it up and out, giggling. "It's mine. It has a lollyphant."

"Yeah, she remembered your birthday, this is your birthday gift. This is from Kenya."

"Where's Kenya?"

"Africa."

"That's very far."

"Yes, it is very far." Tim glanced at her, smiling. "So you got him for the day? What're you doing in the bakery?" He shifted Stevie on his hip. Yeah, I know, he's getting huge, Tyra thought, noting the slight discomfort as Tim had to shift him again.

She nodded, holding up the receipt and copy of the order form. "Wedding stuff. I'm off to the dress place now for a fitting." Maybe it was a good thing they'd run into him. She could do without Stevie running around getting bored in the dress boutique, since she didn't have any toys for him. The battery had died on the LeapFrog game she'd brought, which meant she had to entertain him now.

Tim nodded, turning his face to Stevie. "What do you say we hang today kid? Manly day. Want to go buy lumber for my boss?"

"Can I get my hat?"

"Yes, we'll get you another hardhat." Tim knocked his knuckles onto Stevie's temple, smiling when the little boy giggled. "I dunno, seems hard enough."

Stevie, now happy as a clam after his little running across the street incident, began to talk about his new bracelet with his name on it and how he was never going to take it off. She said goodbye to him, but he wasn't paying her any attention, and Tim just shrugged, waving goodbye.

Halfway to the car, Tyra snapped her fingers. "Damn, the booster seat." She turned around, to yell to Tim about the booster seat, but he was driving away, Stevie bouncing in a seat in the back of a shiny new Chevy Silverado with some contractor's name on the side.

Tim got a company truck? That he was allowed to put his nephew in? Weird. She shook her head, walking back to the minivan. This is my hell. Tyra shoved her sunglasses on her face, climbing into the front seat just as her phone rang. She glanced at the number, smiling at the Philly area code and answered. "Mrs. T!"

"Hello Tyra! I wanted to let you know that Julie changed the color of the bridesmaids dresses, are you there yet for the fitting?"

"On my way, I had to trade my nephew with Tim."

"Oh how is he?"

"He's in kindergarten now, he loves it."

Tami laughed. "Oh that's sweet. I meant Tim though, how is he doing? It's been awhile since I heard about him, Coach doesn't really talk to him anymore."

Everyone drifted apart. Tyra shrugged, backing the boat out of the parking space. "He's okay. Working four jobs, but he's fine. So what color did she change the dresses?"

"It's yellow."

Ugh, I look hideous in yellow. Not my day, it's not my day, she repeated. She drove away from the bakery, towards the dress shop on the other side of town. "So when are you guys going to be out here?"

"We'll be there a few days before the wedding, it's football season so Coach can't be gone too long, just a long weekend. Now, we can talk more when I arrive, but how are your applications going? I told you sweetie, all you have to do is apply to Braymore and it's done."

She smiled quickly. "Yes Mrs. Taylor, but I want to do this on my own."

"I understand, but if you do need…"

"You've helped, Mrs. Taylor, with the references and everything." Hopefully this time a university will actually listen to them. She glanced out the window, clearing her throat. "I…uh, applied for social work and…and that sort of thing."

"That's good. You need to narrow it down though Tyra. What do you want to do after you get your Master's?"

I have no idea, she thought again, clearing her throat. "I'll let you go Mrs. Taylor, I'm pulling up to the dress shop now."

"Okay, just let me know about Braymore. I'll see you at the wedding!"

"Bye." Tyra hung up, climbing out of the minivan. She went into the dress shop, found the dressmaker, and promptly decided to murder Julie if the dress she had to wear was anything close to the real thing. She sent her a text that just said "No."

A few minutes later, the phone rang and the dressmaker, a little old lady with blue hair and a pincushion on her wrist, went to answer. After a moment, she returned, beckoning her to the changing area. "Sorry sweetheart, must have mixed up the design, this is the dress you're to wear."

Okay, I can work with this, Tyra decided, shaking her head at Julie's version of a prank. The dressmaker was holding up a slim pale yellow dress with a slightly ruffled one shoulder strap that fell to her knees. It was classic, she thought, cocking her head and touching the silk. It would be fine. Compared to the giant powderpuff dress that she'd seen a moment ago.

"Okay dear, let's get you fitted!"

Tyra sighed, dropping her bag and keys on a cushion, walking into the back room to get fitted. She blanked out, focusing on the wedding. The wedding would be her turning point, she decided. That gave her six weeks to figure out what she wanted, right down to the specifics. She was not sticking around here a year.

She sighed, closing her eyes. Six weeks. It better go by quickly.


	7. Painting the Town

**A/N:**The last chapter really didn't have much to add to the plot, so I'll post this one along with it. Enjoy :)

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_**Chapter 7: Painting the Town**_

"What are you doing to my room!?"

Tyra stood on a ladder, painting the edge between the ceiling and the wall with light blue paint. She glanced at Tim, who stood in his doorway, staring at her in horror, like she was murdering someone and using their blood to paint or something. She ignored him, returning to the paint.

She'd been here a little over three weeks. In that time frame, she'd received about five more rejections from school districts looking for counselors and about eight from various nonprofits and education lobbying firms. She'd sent off her four packets for graduate schools in Chicago, Pennsylvania, California, and UT. She wouldn't hear back from anyone until December.

In the meantime, Angela was officially the bartender for Buddy's, freeing Tim up to work at The Landing Strip in the evenings all week, since he made more money there than he did at Buddy's. Which meant that she was Tyra Poppins for kids.

Today Mindy was off and Tyra had finally decided that if Tim wasn't going to paint his house, she would paint it. She'd bought pale blue for the two bedrooms, white for the halls and a light green for the kitchen and beige for the living room and dining room. The third bedroom or study, whatever he wanted to call it, would be pale yellow. Lots of pale colors, but she didn't want to darken the house, since it had so many windows with sunlight.

There was nothing worse than a dark and gloomy house and this one didn't need to be dark and gloomy anymore than it already was with Tim living in it. She finished the edge, satisfied in her work today. Both bedrooms and the hall were done. Tomorrow she'd tackle the kitchen and add a second coat to these walls.

"You've ruined it!"

"How could I ruin white walls?"

"I liked them that way!"

"Tim, you have to live here, you can't just build the house!" She tapped down the lid on the can of paint, walking carefully on the plastic sheeting laying across everything. The bed was in the middle of the room and she'd finally caved and done his laundry, only because she had to get it out of her way to paint.

Tim waved his hand. "I'm staying at Skye's tonight."

"Does Miss Priss know about Skye?"

"None of your business." So that was a no, Tyra translated. She followed him downstairs, where he was standing in front of the open fridge, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't have any of my food in here!"

"Your food was beer. I have real food in here. Do you want me to make you something?" I'm starving. She'd bought stuff for spaghetti. It would take a bit, but she could probably have a batch made before he had to go to the Strip.

Tim closed the fridge, scowling at her. He turned around, going to the pantry door and opened it, removing a box of Lucky Charms. He took the milk out of the fridge and poured himself a bowl of sugar. "Did the mail come yet?" he asked. He sounded agitated.

"Yes, it's on the counter." Come to think of it, she needed to stop at her mom's house. All her mail was still going there because she refused to officially admit she was living with Tim.

He went to the pile, flicking through. She pursed her lips, watching him as he went through the pile about eight times. "There's no card," she whispered. She hadn't seen one for three weeks now.

He made a sound of distress, grabbing his bowl of cereal and going to his chair, angrily flicking on the television and beginning to chomp on marshmallows. God forbid someone try to get handsy with one of the girls tonight, Tyra thought, that guy was going to get put through a wall.

She went to her computer, set up on the desk, sitting down and checking her email. No new notifications on jobs. Mindy kept telling her to call the county, because they were looking for someone with the prison. She just said no way and kept walking. "Damn," she mumbled.

"Why don't you just do something?" Tim said from his chair.

She rolled her eyes. "I am doing something."

"You're destroying my house."

The art supply store had replied to her inquiry about the picture she'd snuck out of the box from upstairs. They were blowing it up and framing it for her, at a discount because she'd successfully flirted with the high school boy working there. She was probably going to go to hell for it, but oh well.

Julie sent her another email on the flowers, changing her mind again about what the florist should have. She didn't need to know the type, just had to give the rest of the deposit over and pick up the flowers when they were ready.

Four weeks, Tyra thought, counting down in her head. She stood up from the computer, walking over to sit on the arm of Tim's chair, glancing at the television. It was the news. "You watch the news?" she asked. He'd been doing that for a few days now.

"Yes," he snapped.

"Sorry, what crawled up your butt and died? Bad day?"

"I'm fine," he barked, stabbing his spoon into the bowl and scooping up marshmallows like an animal. He glanced sideways at her. "Did you give Belle her pills this morning?"

"Yes, I crushed them in the apples like you said."

"And brush her?"

"Tim, I brushed her, I'm not going to leave your horse to the elements." Something was up with him. Had been up with him, but today it was really showing. No way she was going to let him leave the house this angry or just treat her like crap. She stood up from the chair, her hands on her hips. Paint flecked in her hair and over her clothes and skin. She was hot, tired, and dirty. She pursed her lips. "Is this about Lyla?"

Tim flung the leg-rest of the chair back, sitting up and carrying his empty bowl into the sink, tossing it in with the rest from this morning, walking by her and to the stairs. "My clothes still up here?"

"Yes, they are." Tyra rolled her eyes. He was worse than a girl sometimes. She went over to the wall of postcards, turning them over again. The postmarks were pretty random. It wasn't like it was every two weeks. The last one was from Senegal, from three weeks ago. Maybe that's why he was annoyed.

Get over it Tim, other people exist in the world. Besides, she suspected Skye wouldn't like his involvement with Lyla and her life. Maybe I'll stop by the Strip tonight, see how Skye is doing, Tyra thought with a quirk of her lips.

She sighed, glancing around the kitchen. Hell, maybe she could pick up an application. Mindy was managing the place now. She went over to get the keys to her truck; Tim still had to fix her battered Mustang, he said he'd get to it but he hadn't made a move. He worked too much.

I can't believe I just thought that about Tim.

Tyra went into the bathroom, which she'd sort of been decorating throughout the last three weeks, finding stuff on sale each time she went to the store. She'd gotten white and navy blue towels and other matching toiletry items. It didn't need to be painted, but she did need to get some rugs. She was going to spend the last bit of money she had outfitting Tim's house, she knew it.

She showered, wrapping a thick bath sheet around her and walking through the kitchen and upstairs. It was a stupid layout, but she didn't think Tim put that much thought into it when he designed the house. She stood at the top of the stairs, sniffing and scowling at the smell of paint. Maybe she should have done this earlier.

Tim walked out of his bedroom, wearing all black, his hair tied back from his face. "You look like a girl," she said, every single time she saw him with the ponytail. He made a rude hand gesture. "I love you too!"

She giggled, spinning on her bare foot and entered her bedroom, removing the plastic sheeting. "I crack myself up," she said out loud, changing into an outfit that slightly resembled her party outfits from the first week here, but was slightly more subdued. She didn't want guys to think she was one of the strippers.

Or maybe I do, she thought, thinking of the amount of tips that Tim brought home from the girls. They were probably all in love with him and just gave him most of what they made. Tyra selected black jeans, black sandals, and a red tank top, tossing her hair around. She put on dangling earrings and a few bracelets.

"I look good," she decided. She cocked her hip a few times like a stupid teenager getting ready to go out with friends. She turned around and gestured to her empty room. "And I have no one here!"

Almost on cue, her cell phone rang. She picked it up, answering. "Hey Julie."

"So come outside."

"Why?"

"Just come outside."

Her stomach flipping a few times, Tyra jogged down the stairs, smiling. "What are you doing Taylor?" she asked, walking to the front door. "How do you know what's outside here anyway or even where I am, huh?" She pulled the door open, screaming in surprise even though she knew who it was. "Ah!"

Julie yelled with her, both of them hugging and jumping up and down. It had been forever, Tyra thought, squeezing her friend tightly. She let go, grinning wide. "You're here! In Dillon!"

"I am in Dillon," Julie laughed. She reached for her roller bag suitcase, pulling it into the house with her. She dropped the handle, tossing her curly blonde hair from her shoulders. "So I'm just checking on Matt's grandma, it's a midterm break at Chicago, so…here I am! What are you doing? You look hot."

"I'm going to The Landing Strip. Tim's in a mood, I want to know why." She lifted her eyebrow, poking at Julie's arm. "And hey, now that I have backup, we can scare the stripper he's been seeing into going away."

Julie arched a slim eyebrow. "Are we in high school again Tyra?"

She shrugged. It was juvenile, but she didn't like the stripper. She clapped her hands, jumping in place. "Let's put your stuff down, you are staying here, aren't you? Sorry my room smells like paint, but you can take the couch. I'll put your suitcase in the study here…" She stuck it in the empty room next to the door.

After a few minutes of showing her around the relatively small house and pointing out the bathroom being on the first floor and not upstairs with the other bedrooms, Tyra was getting antsy. She wanted to go do something and not spend another night cooped up inside here or with the boys.

A random question popped into her head, she couldn't believe she didn't think of it when Julie appeared. "Is Matt with you?"

"He can't leave the gallery, his boss is a maniac. I'm just here for three days. I already checked on Grandma, she's okay as can be, with Shelby staying with her full time now." Julie tossed her hand through her hair, smiling and shrugging, her hands going to her pockets. "Plus I want some wedding stuff done and he will just trip me up on it."

"Sounds great, we can talk about it over breakfast tomorrow, let's go to the strip club now," Tyra said. She took Julie's hand, leading her out of the kitchen and ignoring her question about the postcards hanging from the wall. "Long story," she finally said, after Julie asked it about four times.

"Oh my God, there's a horse."

Tyra nodded again. "That's another long story. One I'm still not entirely clear on."

"Tim's kept a horse alive this long?"

"It's a miracle." They climbed into the truck. She threw her clutch purse down on the floor of the truck, turning and backing out of the driveway. I knew I should have turned around when I parked this morning. She hated backing out of this thing. She managed to get onto the road without incident, driving off towards clear on the other side of town near the airport, where The Landing Strip was conveniently located.

She glanced at Julie, who was twisting her engagement ring around on her finger, staring out the window. She seemed…off. Tyra frowned a little, turning off the radio, which was playing on low volume. It made the truck even more silent, if possible. Hmm, weird. She cleared her throat. "So, uh…how is Chicago? I mean…is it…great?"

You're terrible at this Collette. She'd been hanging around her sister and Tim for too long without any other outside influence. All her friends from high school were mostly gone or involved in their lives, stuck in Dillon doing what she wanted to avoid. Working at Applebees and just trying to survive. About to pop out the first or maybe even the second kid with their high school boyfriend.

She swallowed hard, Julie not answering. "Um, you're not…not having second thoughts, are you?" It wasn't too late to cancel, if necessary, but…they'd put so much work into it so far. I've put work into it, Tyra thought, but did not say. That was selfish.

Julie sighed, narrowing her eyes and glancing sideways. She kept twisting the ring on her finger. "I'm not having second thoughts Tyra. I'm quite happy with Matt and I want to get married…this is soon, but…but we love each other. I don't need that wedding cake gown, it's just dumb. This is what I want. So no, I'm not having second thoughts."

Then why are you acting so strange? Tyra said nothing, driving into town. She finally shrugged, glancing at her friend again. "So what's with the whole…quiet routine? I mean, we haven't seen each other in months, I'd thought you'd have more to say."

"I don't know if I'm the one who should be saying, Tyra, that's all." Julie looked down at her bag, which was buzzing. She slipped her hand into an outer pocket of the messenger bag, removing her cell phone and smiling, almost giddy, lifting it to her ear. "Hey Matt."

They were so stupidly in love that it made Tyra want to puke. Had she ever felt like that? She shook her head, mouthing 'no.' No, she hadn't. Even with Tim, when she was younger, she'd been angry and cynical and jaded about the world. Ready to resign herself to a life of stripping and watching her husband puke up his paycheck every week. To become her sister. And then become her mother.

Until Jason's accident, she thought. She hadn't thought of his accident in such a long time. Or how she felt afterward. Tim had some pictures of him and Jason; she needed to frame them. He told her that Noah was in school now and Jason and his wife had a new baby. Cute little ginger, Tim said, showing her a birth announcement of Jason with a redheaded baby dressed in pink.

Jason Street could become paralyzed and still have this great life. She turned her truck into the parking lot of the Landing Strip, going around back and parking between Mindy's minivan and Tim's truck. It was back to his black one; the corporate truck was parked at home, he still hadn't explained.

Julie climbed out of the passenger seat, still speaking on the phone. "I'll let her know, okay Matt…alright…yeah I'm with Tyra right now, I'm going to stay with her tonight and then the rest of the weekend with Grandma. Okay…love you too….bye." She disconnected, putting her phone into her purse, lifting her face up to the neon sign for the Landing Strip. The S was out, so it just said "Trip." "Classy," she sighed.

"Yeah, I know, we won't be long," Tyra said. She smiled, nudging her friend with her shoulder. "So you and Matt, huh? How cute are you guys?"

"We're adorable," Julie giggled. She gestured to her bag, following her through the employee's only entrance. "He was just telling me about how excited Grandma is about the wedding, she can't stop talking about it. She needs to get my dad hopped up, right now he's acting like such a drama queen about losing his little girl."

I cannot see Coach Taylor acting like a drama queen. Mrs. Taylor, maybe, depending on the circumstance, but not Coach. She walked down the hall and into the manager's office, where Mindy was sitting with her feet propped up on a desk, two half-naked women sitting in front of her.

"Look girls, I don't care who gets more lap dances, both of y'all need to stop fighting in front of customers." Mindy paused, flashing a quick smile. "Unless they're paying for it. Now, what y'all do on your own time, you know I don't care, just be safe! Bye now, go make me some money!"

Mindy was acting more like a pimp than anything else, Tyra thought, watching as the two women walked out, rolling their eyes. She closed the door behind them, grinning at her sister. "Wow, so your motherly skills are coming in handy here, huh?"

"You can't imagine…so what's up little sis? Tim's out front. He's in a mood, what did you do to him?" Mindy stood up, giving her a quick hug. Her face lit up. "Hey Julie! What are you doing here?"

"Just in town to see Grandma for the weekend, I fly out Monday. Got some wedding stuff I need to finish up," Julie said, flashing a quick smile. She glanced at Tyra, her lips pursed. "So uh…what are we doing here again?"

"Skye," Tyra said. She glanced at Mindy. "So what's the dish on her?"

"Oh, she's had her eye on Tim since she came to work here. Don't worry about her, she's a little slut. Sharp as a tack when she isn't stoned or drunk, which isn't often…" Mindy trailed off, glancing at a monitor on the wall next to her desk. She reached down to a walkie-talkie, lifting it to her lips. "Tim, Chiffon is getting manhandled."

"What?" Tim's voice crackled through the walkie.

"Go get Chiffon! There's a trucker whose about to lose it."

"Yeah, yeah, I kicked him out earlier."

"Then what are you doing letting him back in, you were on the door not fifteen minutes ago!" Mindy shouted into the walkie-talkie, throwing it down and smiling quickly. "Employees. So difficult." She snapped her fingers. "So, Skye…yeah, she's not working tonight Tyra, so you'll have to chase her away some other time."

Julie chuckled, poking her in the ribs. "See, I told you it was juvenile. This was just nature's way of letting you know it too."

Yeah, I know, but I still wanted to put the fear of Tyra Collette into her. She sighed, glancing at the monitor where Tim was throwing someone out the front door. Maybe being a bouncer was good for him. He got to drink, watch strippers, sleep with strippers, and beat people up. For money.

For some reason she felt annoyed by that. Tim needed a real job. He had a real house, which he didn't acknowledge so much. He had a real possibility for a real love life and future, but the woman was just on another continent. Now he had a real shot with construction, if he did it full time, but this part-time crap was just not…Tyra sighed, pursing her lips.

I'm analyzing Tim. I've got to stop doing that. She traded her bag from one hand to the other, sighing. "Fine, guess we'll be going."

"Good, you shouldn't be here anyway. Dressed like that the guys are going to mistake you for one of the dancers, on you go, get," Mindy said, gesturing for both of them to leave. She leaned on the open door of the office, smiling at her. "It's nice to see you Julie. Tyra, be nice to her, I know you're bitter and angry, but she seems happy."

What? Tyra frowned, her brow wrinkling. She didn't say anything, turning and walking back out the backdoor. She climbed up into the truck, saying nothing, not even when Julie asked if she was alright. She drove away, still not saying anything.

Bitter and angry?

She swallowed hard, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. It stung. It felt like Mindy just slapped her instead. Mindy probably didn't even know what she said. She probably even thought she was joking. Then why does it hurt so bad?

Julie whispered from beside her. "It's just something she said, it's not a big deal, she probably didn't even realize she said it."

"Yeah…" Tyra shook her head, biting her lip. She turned into a liquor store lot, unbuckling her seatbelt. "I'm…I'm going to get some bottles of wine and then we are going to go to Grandma's house." Because I really need…really need a distraction. She closed the truck door, peering over the hood. "And well, you know…it'll be fun."

The laugh escaping Julie was nervous. "Yeah, fun, sure."

That night, Tyra passed out in Matt's old bed with Julie, wondering why she didn't learn her lesson from the other few times she'd partied it up with Lorraine. The last thought she had before going to sleep was "Damn, Lorraine can still drink."


	8. Feeling Entitled

**A/N: **Hope this is enjoyable :) There are two planned "sequels" in the works, if I can come up with the energy to finish them. Enjoy :)

* * *

_**Chapter 8: Feeling Entitled**_

Julie dodged out of the way of a flying paint roller, glancing across the foyer at Tyra, who stood to the side, amused at Tim's little outburst. She lifted her eyebrows, blinking. "Does he know it's not nice to throw things at visitors?" she asked, her hand on the open front door.

I don't know what crawled up his butt, but something was really angering him. Maybe if he just told me…ugh. Tyra wasn't going to shrink Tim. He is not my problem, she repeated to herself. She closed the door, calling into the kitchen. "Tim? Hey…are you okay?"

"I can't find anything!" Tim yelled, chucking a roll of tape into the living room. He poked his finger into her chest, glaring. "You keep moving my stuff around and I still want a rent check."

I'm not paying you rent if I'm paying to paint your house. She just lifted her eyebrows, watching him storm outside towards the paddock. "Geez," she murmured, setting down her cup of coffee and bag on the counter. She glanced at Julie, whose hair was still sticking up in the back.

They'd really tied one down; Grandma Saracen could still drink and have a good time. Tyra didn't realize how much she'd missed her until the three of them were laughing it up giving each other manicures and talking about boys. Lorraine also dragged out old photo albums, insisting on showing Julie the bath photos of Matt that she'd been forbidden from showing her during their dating period. Matt's going to kill his Grandma when he finds out that Julie intends to show them at the wedding, Tyra thought with a small laugh. She removed a loaf of bread and the toaster from a cabinet, glancing at Julie, who was removing a binder from her bag. "So when are we going to do this wedding stuff? Do you want toast?"

"Sure. No butter, I've got to fit into my dress, by the way…" Julie whipped out a picture, grinning. "That's my dress. We'll see it later at the fitting."

"Oh my God!" she squealed. It was gorgeous! Very old-fashioned, with ¾-length lace sleeves, lace boatneck top, and pear buttons down the back to the tea-length skirt. It was also cream-colored, not snow-white. It would go well with the pale yellow maid of honor dress. "What's your mom wearing?" she asked.

"Whatever Mom wants to wear, she said she gets to pick what she wants and it won't be one of those tapestry mother-of-the-bride dresses with paper skirts," Julie said. She began to lie out neatly paper-clipped stacks of invoices and photos. "So the cake is done, we just need to pay it off when we get it…I've got this idea to maybe put ribbons around the trees, just for like the altar…the pastor from the church we went to while we were living here will perform the wedding and I have to talk to him tomorrow to make sure he's all set and knows that this will not be some five-hour long affair and all that…"

While Julie went on about colored ribbons, flower arrangements, and whether they should have chicken or beef, because both were too expensive, Tyra surveyed Tim from the kitchen window above the sink. He was walking around with Belle, in his own little world. She wondered if he found out about her going to The Landing Strip last night with the intention of scaring Skye away from him. Maybe he thought she was giving him mixed signals. She pursed her lips, shaking her head and refilling her coffee cup while she burned her toast the way she liked it.

"So have you heard back from any jobs yet?" Julie asked, looking over a stack of papers in her hands.

Guess we're going to talk about this now. "No, just rejections. No one is hiring. Some say they want to hire me, but I just don't have experience."

"It's a catch-22, they want people with experience, but to get experience, you need a job."

"Yeah," Tyra sighed. She removed the toast from the toaster, reaching for a knife and scooping it into a jar of jelly. "I also still don't really know if I want to go into social work or…or if I want to just stay as a school counselor. I liked the lobbying I had to do for one of my internships in D.C., but it seems so big, I'd like to stay more local."

"Be PTA President of Dillon High."

"Shut up," she joked. She set a plate of toast between both of them, sitting down on the kitchen stool beside her. "Okay, so what are we doing today?"

"Matt's in charge of his suit and Landry's, but that's what I want to talk to you about." She lifted an eyebrow, her voice quiet. "Landry's coming back to Dillon for two weeks before the wedding."

Two weeks before the wedding, huh? That was…Tyra closed her eyes briefly. That gave her about two weeks to prepare, she supposed. She didn't really know what to say to him, but…they were adults now. She reached for her cup of coffee. "Sure. Sounds great."

"As best man he has to make sure the rings are here and all that, we're getting them from the jeweler next to the dress shop, but he's also going to provide the music, he's playing guitar." Julie shrugged. "This thing isn't that big, but…"

I don't want to talk about Landry. "So how many people have RSVP'd?"

"Well I didn't give them much time, but it's only about 30 people. I hope Tim doesn't mind, but I want to have the buffet here, on the porch and then we'll set the tables up outside."

"You're going to need a tent."

"I don't want a tent."

"Well what if it rains?" She shrugged. "You can still have the ceremony on the porch, we'll get ribbons and flowers for the banisters, just in case." She held her hands out, like a box, seeing it. The colors for the wedding were varying shades of yellow and the flowers were yellow, green, and purple. They could get green ribbons and tie them off with white and yellow bouquets…it would be pretty, all around the porch, which wrapped around the house. They could also put some on the gates out front…

Julie nibbled her lower lip. "You seem more interested in this than me."

The comment dragged Tyra out of her vision. She chuckled, reaching for her toast. "Yeah, I guess I might be."

"You should really start looking local Tyra, you're already here. What about that county job Mindy told you about? The one she heard from someone at The Landing Strip?"

The jail job? Tyra knew it was still open. It wasn't anything to write home about, it was just going into the Carr County prison and helping out with the psychologist's office. She didn't have experience in that setting, hers was all with kids. She shook her head. "No, I don't have the experience."

"It's a start Tyra. I think you could get it. What did you do your thesis on?"

To get her diploma, she'd had to complete a thesis, only twenty pages, nothing compared to a Master's thesis or anything. It wasn't like she'd gotten awards for it or anything like some of her fellow students. She shrugged, sipping her coffee. "It was on the dynamics between school counseling and at-risk students. Get them in tenth grade or you'll never have them." The research she'd done, in her internships that year had helped her come to that conclusion, which she'd defended and gotten the approval on from her advisor and the thesis committee at UT.

Julie picked up a pencil, tapping it on the counter. "So you justify that thesis with the job at the jail or something…you know, you can make them believe just about anything. Researching students who are at-risk led you to understand that if you don't get them young they'll turn to a life of crime so you can work in a jail, I don't know, something like that, you can come up with something, you're smart."

Smart, yeah, whatever. She'd barely gotten out of UT alive. It was harder than just about anything she'd done and there were more than a few times she'd wanted to pack it up and just stop. Until she'd remembered how hard it was for her to get there in the first place and the couple times she'd wanted to pack it in during high school. It wasn't worth it.

The side door opened, Tim coming back inside and staring at her. "Did the mail come?" he asked.

"No, Tim, it's like ten in the morning, the mail didn't come," Tyra said. She kept her voice quiet, not teasing him. He was obsessed with the mail. She ran her tongue over her teeth. "Are you okay?"

He didn't answer, scanning the land outside. For what, invaders to your territory? She glanced at Julie, who wasn't saying anything, but watching Tim. Julie cleared her throat. "I did a story with one of my professors and we had to go to this remote area of Canada to do some interviews…so we brought a satellite phone…" She ran her tongue over her teeth. "It can call to pretty far away places, Tim. I forgot to return it to my professor. I can get Matt to call out on it, it's back in my apartment in Chicago."

Tim didn't look at her. He finally turned his head, after a few more silent moments. "Why would I need that?" he asked.

"I'm just saying, in case…you need to call someone far away."

"I don't," he mumbled, walking out of the kitchen and upstairs. Tyra lifted her head to the ceiling when there was a rattling, probably him kicking a painting accessory across the floor.

Julie arched her eyebrows. "Wow," she mouthed. "He's really spun up about her again, huh?"

"He's just stupid. So let's talk about the flower arrangements."

"Let's talk about your job prospects. What you need to do is go to graduate school while you work. Do something locally."

"No one is hiring."

"You're not looking hard enough," Julie protested.

Okay, she'd had enough. "Yes I am!" Tyra exclaimed. She threw her hands in the air, scowling. "Look Julie, it's not as easy as it was for you. You're a good writer; you could get into any journalism program in the country. I had to fight for my grades at UT and even then I didn't get the greatest ones in the world to compete in some of these programs. I'm trying to apply to schools, but no one wants someone without the experience or a Master's degree, okay? I'm trying." That's all I can say I'm doing. I'm trying. She got up from the stool, walking across the kitchen to the sink, running her coffee mug and empty plate under the water, dropping them against the porcelain with a loud clatter. She leaned against the counter, looking down at the sink. This was ridiculous. _Don't be bitter like Tyra_. I'm not bitter Mindy. I'm just annoyed. Annoyed that all my hard work has led me back here again. I'm trying to get out by the wedding. One month. It wasn't looking like that was going to happen. The applications from grad school wouldn't be back to her until November or December anyway.

"You know Tyra," Julie said. Her voice was quiet. It was so damn quiet in this house, you wouldn't really expect it to be. "We're sitting here in Tim's house, that he built and he outfitted with all this expensive stuff…you think he wanted to work all those jobs? You think he wanted to go to jail? For someone who got out only two years ago he's done really well for himself since then. Sometimes you just have to make do with what you have and you have to do things you don't like. I don't want to write about dog fashion and doorknob shows, but I do."

Tyra turned around, listening to Julie continue. "I mean, yeah I'm in school at the University of Chicago, but it's really hard. I work freelance to pay the bills and I have to write those crap stories so that I can go on an excursion to the Arctic with one of my professors on a feature story for National Geographic and I have to pay my dues with the school paper so that I can get the opportunity to interview the Mayor of Chicago or the President or something. Matt kills himself day after day at the gallery so that he can paint and get one chance to have a painting in another person's show…it sucks."

"So stop," Julie finished, shoving her papers into her bag. "Stop acting like you're entitled to the best job in the world just because you graduated from UT. You got in, you graduated, but no one cares about what happened in high school or the small town you grew up in when you're at this level." She slung her bag over her shoulder, sighing and gesturing to the door. "I have to go meet the dressmaker for my fitting. Are you coming or not?"

I'm coming, but…geez. That was intense. I'm not entitled either, she thought defensively. I'm not bitter and angry and I'm not entitled. You know who is bitter and angry? Tim is right now and I don't know why. Almost like Julie was reading her mind, she flashed a quick smile, shaking her head. "Tim's life isn't your problem Tyra. You're not his therapist and you're not his girlfriend. If he wants to sleep with a stripper, let him. It's like you and Landry. You got so annoyed when he dated other girls, but you were the one that broke up with him. You can't have it both ways. If Tim wants to be annoyed about something, let him. He'll get over it."

It's not like that. I'm trying not to care about his life, but…maybe she'd been here too long. Because she knew what happened when Tim really got a bee in his bonnet and it usually didn't bode well for him in the long run. He'd worked too hard to let some dumb thing derail him. "Yeah, but if he does something stupid…" she trailed off, already seeing Julie's scowl. Yeah. Fine. He's not my problem. I'm not his keeper.

The front door slammed shut a second later. Tyra looked over towards it, but didn't make a move to go see where Tim was running off. It was Friday night. She shook her hand through her hair. I'm very tired. I just want to stop, she thought, lifting her eyes to Julie. She cleared her throat. "I'm going to freshen up. I'll meet you at the dressmaker."

Julie smiled, walking over and reaching to give her a hug. "I'm sorry if I sounded like a bitch, but I love you. I just hate seeing you back here like this." She shook her head in disbelief. "I still can't believe you didn't get into UT's graduate program."

"My advisor said I overestimated myself."

"The schools underestimated you."

Yeah. They did, I guess, but…it didn't matter, you said so yourself. You hate me being here, but I hate me being here like this too. Tyra returned the hug, walking her towards the front door. She waved, promising to see her in about an hour and they'd get lunch before Julie took Grandma to a couple of doctor's appointments since Shelby had some appointments. She stepped back into the house, going upstairs and changing, gathering up a new bag and her laptop. Maybe she'd stop at the coffee shop and sit in a new environment to work on some applications. She left her room, going downstairs and stopping when the front door opened, Tim stepping inside. He looked frazzled. "Tim," she called. She set her stuff down on the bottom step, going after him. "Hey! Tim!"

"What?" he sighed, turning on his heel. He looked extremely tired; and extremely not in the mood to deal with her, Tyra thought. He closed his eyes, swallowing. "I don't…Tyra I don't want to talk, okay?"

But…Tyra nodded. You're not my problem anymore. You're a distraction. Hell, I just love distractions, she thought darkly. She let go of his arm, stepping away. Whatever it was he was going through, he obviously wanted to do it alone. If he did something stupid, that was his problem. "Okay," she murmured. She turned around, leaving the house and slamming the door behind her.


	9. Helping A Friend

**A/N:**This story is finished, so I'm going to power through and just update daily until it's complete. Thank you to those who have reviewed, you'll see that some of Tyra's...issues come to light later on as certain characters come and go. Enjoy!

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**_Chapter 9: Helping a Friend_**

"Where's Tim?" Mindy asked, standing in the bleachers, looking up at Tyra, who stood behind her. The twins were on either side of Mindy, gorging on popcorn, while Stevie stood next to Tyra, holding a stats booklet in his hand, writing down numbers that appeared on the scoreboard, even if he didn't quite know what they meant just yet.

How should I know? "Isn't he working?" Tyra asked, clapping her hands when the Panthers ran in. Julie stood next to her with Lorraine, who was still wearing her Matt Saracen jersey and "QB#1 Grandma" ribbon.

"Not at The Landing Strip or the Touchdown it's his night off. Unless he picked up a nighttime road crew shift."

"I don't know Mindy, I'm not his keeper anymore."

Mindy shook her head, shifting, calling up to her again. "Something's off, Billy said that Buddy wasn't going to make it to this game, he rushed out of practice after he got a phone call. It's against West Cambria, it's a huge game and Buddy Garrity isn't going to be here? Weird."

"Maybe he's got a date with Mom."

"Do not joke about that, just please."

Tyra laughed. Yeah, it was pretty disgusting. She knew Angela was working the bar tonight, so maybe Buddy was just sticking around with her. Even though he would never miss a game of this value unless…she glanced down at Billy, who was on the sidelines pumping up the players with the war cry.

Beside her, Stevie was mimicking his father's moves. He kept squinting to see though. She rested her hand on Stevie's shoulders. "Can you see sweetheart? You want me to hold you?" My back will be broken by the end of the night, but we can try.

He held up his arms. Even after holding him so he could see, Stevie was still squinting, pointing at certain things, asking what it said. Tyra glanced down at Mindy. "Hey," she said, putting Stevie back down. He wanted to run off with one of his little friends from kindergarten, so she let him. Kid was going to grow up on a football field, might as well start now.

"What's wrong?" Julie asked.

Mindy took a large chunk of soft pretzel from Scotty, who was whipping it around without eating. "What's up?" she asked, tilting her head back.

"Stevie can't see crap. He's squinting and stuff, why didn't we notice this before?"

"He always squints. He passed the eye exam at his last doctor's appointment before kindergarten with flying colors."

Eyes can go bad. Tyra shook her head, not saying anything else. She'd take him next week on one of the days she was watching him. She sighed, poking Mindy again. "Hey, that job at the jail, who is the person I should call?"

"One of the guards told me about it, he's a regular."

Of course he was. Mindy said she'd let her know later; she'd get the name of the probation officer who was in charge of that sort of thing at the jail. Maybe I should just ask Tim, Tyra thought darkly. That wouldn't go over well. If he were in a mood already, it would be suicide to ask him about something related to prison.

She cheered when the Panthers took the field. "This is fun," she said to Julie. "Coming back."

"It does seem strange. My dad wants to come to the game before the wedding." S he shook her head. "If Buddy Garrity gets him drunk the night before my wedding…"

"If he does that, I'll handle Buddy Garrity, don't you worry," Lorraine said beside her. She began to talk about Matt, asking how come he wasn't here. He should be playing. Julie sat her down, explaining for another time that Matt wasn't playing because he wasn't in high school anymore.

It was sad, Tyra thought, about Mrs. Saracen. She looked away, feeling her phone buzz in her pocket. She removed it, ignoring Mindy's "Who is it?" question. I don't know Mindy. She answered. "Yeah?" This was stupid, the way the crowd was cheering, and she couldn't hear a damn thing.

"It's Tim. I…I'm at home. I…I'm painting. Where's the extra dropcloths that you had?"

"You're not working?" she asked.

"No. Where are they? Because I'm going to start using your clothes."

"Geez Tim. They're in the laundry room, on the shelf above the washer. You might need to get another couple of rollers."

"I'm fine. Thanks." He hung up without another word. That was strange. Tyra rolled her eyes, shoving the phone back into her pocket, clapping and cheering with the rest of the crowd.

They ended up winning, but barely, thanks to a last minute play called by Billy. She said goodbye to everyone, giving Julie a hug, promising to call her tomorrow for breakfast and then they could go to check on the flower arrangements with the florist.

"I'll get his eyes looked at next week," Mindy promised her, after Tyra made another comment about Stevie squinting. Now it didn't matter, since he was asleep in Billy's arms, while each one of them had a twin. Tyra helped her put them in the minivan, hugging her sister goodbye and even giving Billy a hug and kiss.

She stepped off, towards her truck, turning on her heel. "Hey Billy."

"Yeah?" Billy called, half in the minivan and half out of it, looking around, fearful of a Booster, most likely.

"Um…" Not your business anymore Tyra, even if he is your roommate. "Tim's been…weird lately, you know about that?"

Billy rolled his eyes. "He's just in a mood Tyra, he gets like this, just ignore him, he'll be fine in a couple days." He waved. "See you tomorrow, you can watch the boys, right? There's a pancake thing tomorrow morning I have to go to and they'll be too much to control with all the other stuff I gotta' do."

"Yeah, sure." Guess that means I'm not going to the florist with Julie. She could bring the boys with her, she guessed. She went to her truck, climbing inside and checking her wallet. Good, she had enough cash for ice cream. Maybe that would cheer Tim up.

She stopped at the Alamo Freeze, waited in line forever, and began to make the trek home. She backed into a spot beside her POS car and Tim's truck, climbing out and making sure to remember the ice cream. The front door was unlocked, but there were no lights on in the front rooms, just clattering coming from the living room. She frowned, closing and flicking the lock on the door behind her. "Hey Tim?" she called. She set the bag of ice cream on the counter. "I brought you some ice cream. Do you want the Oreo Swizzler or the M&M, because I kind of want the M&M…" She trailed off, walking into the living room, looking around.

He'd attacked the walls, was the first thought. Paint coated the dropcloths and him, angrily swiping the roller up and down on the wall behind the television. The iPod hooked up to a set of speakers on the desk was dead, the battery drained. Tyra went over to turn it off completely, her mind racing. Okay, so this wasn't good. Now she had to get involved, no matter what people said. No matter what her mind was telling her about just ignoring it and going away. Tim was obviously…in need of something. "Tim," she whispered. She crossed her arms, releasing a long breath. "Tim what's going on? Please talk to me."

Tim jabbed the roller into paint, standing up and letting it drip onto his boots. His hair was tied from his face, but strands hung around his cheeks, speckled with paint. He shook his head. "No, you won't…no."

I won't what? "Come on Tim."

"Come on what?" he snapped, still running the paint over the walls. Tyra walked over, taking it from him. He didn't put up a fight. That should have told her something was up. He sighed, looking down at her as she cleaned up the paint, ignoring the fact that she was wearing a nice pair of jeans and shirt. "Lyla's got hurt."

Oh my…Tyra lifted her face, staring up at him. "What?"

"She got hurt…she…she was in an accident and…" He sighed hard, his voice shaking, and very small. "She was in…in this place, I don't know where, but…but they got ambushed and…she hurt her leg or something. She's in Germany now, um, they're going to bring her home in a few weeks, but…" He bit his lip, his voice so very small. "But she was missing for a few days."

That's why you were so nervous. Watching the news. Tyra stood up, reaching for his wrist. Her thumb pressed into a pulse point, feeling it racing for someone who was standing still. She closed her eyes. I can't believe I'm going to say this. "You should go," she whispered.

His eyes lifted, dark and sad. "Huh?"

"You should go to Germany. You should go be with her. Buddy's already going or something, he…he wasn't at the football game, but you should go too. I think it'll be good for you."

"I can't, I have work…and we're not together."

You can keep saying that, but you love her. "You've been an asshole for the last few days Tim," Tyra whispered. She reached her hand up, cupping his face, turning it towards her. She smiled. How big of me to do this, but…hell, I'm a Psychology major, I'm doing this because I want to help you. "And I think you and I both know that you're not just her friend. How badly hurt is she?"

He shook his head, shrugging. "I don't know."

"Well I can't imagine she's 100%." She bit her lower lip, her brow wrinkling. She squeezed his hand again, her other hand on his cheek falling to his shoulder. Go Tim; just go. "You can travel, right? You're not on parole anymore? You have a passport?"

"Yes. No. Yes."

"Then you should go Tim. I'll help you with the ticket…"

"I can afford the ticket."

She quirked her lip, whispering. "You said you were going to go see her anyway. This is just earlier than you planned."

He smiled, but it didn't meet his eyes. He closed them, swallowing. He shook his head again, pained. "You don't understand," he whispered, letting go of her and walking into the kitchen, removing a beer.

"I don't understand?"

"No." He set the beer down, gesturing to the cards. The atlas sat open on the counter; he'd probably been looking for wherever it was she'd been hurt. "All that Tyra? It's what she wants, okay?" He pointed out the window. "And that isn't it." It clearly pained him. He looked down at his boots, whispering. "You didn't…you don't know what it's like."

She smiled slightly, a little hurt by that statement. "I don't know what it's like to love someone? To want different things from someone else?" she murmured.

"Not the…" He shook his head, not finishing the statement, but she could finish it for him. It made him uncomfortable, this talk about someone else. With her of all people. About…well about HER of all people. Not the way it is with me, Tyra finished for him. That was harsh. She ran her tongue over her teeth, ignoring the tears that pricked her eyes. Please don't cry. You'll make it worse if you cry.

Her throat constricted. "You should at least get to bed," she whispered. We won't talk of this again. You're pained. You don't know what to do. You're not my problem. She bit her lower lip, lifting her eyes back to him. "I still think you should go."

"Would you go if it was Landry or something? We're not together. She's not my girlfriend." He stepped away from the counter, holding his beer, leaving the room and going up the stairs, closing his bedroom door; it echoed softly down the stairs.

Tyra stood in place. You couldn't compare Landry to this situation. She hadn't…it wasn't like that. She didn't want to think of him just yet. She still had about two weeks before she had to think of Landry, before she had to see him again and she still didn't know what she was going to say to him.

She turned around and began to clean up the living room, putting lids back on paint cans, taking rollers into the laundry room and running them under the sink to clean them off. She powered down everything, going upstairs and into her bedroom, changing and crawling into bed.

A few hours later she woke with a start, feeling as though someone else was in the room with her. She turned in bed, sitting up, frowning at the sight of Tim sitting on the floor, leaning against her bed. "What are you doing?" she mumbled, wiping her eyes, sighing. "Are you drunk?"

"I think I'm going to go to Germany." Oh. Well then. Tim stood, crawling into the bed next to her, hugging a pillow against his chest, peering at her through the darkness. He shook his head, mumbling. "I can't stop thinking about it."

I told you that you should go. She blinked a few times. What about me, she suddenly thought, lifting her eyes back from her pillow to him. She felt a rush of hesitation at encouraging him to leave. It was nice having him around, even if he was rarely in the house and when he was, he tended to be a boor. It was comforting. Someone who loved her, under the same roof…family.

He spoke softly, his words echoing her thoughts. "You'll be fine Tyra." He paused. "Just don't burn down my house."

They both laughed. She nibbled her lower lip, reaching her hand over to squeeze his. I love you, she thought, her heart racing at the thought of being alone. Really alone, without Mindy or her mother here. Or him or…or anyone. I'll be living alone. Just me and my thoughts and nothing else to distract me.

The idea was terrifying.

"You'll be okay," Tim murmured. He knew. They were more alike than either cared to admit. He leaned over, giving her a light kiss on the lips before pulling away, rolling off the bed.

Tyra sat up quickly. "Hey."

He paused, standing at the door. "Yeah?"

She cocked her head, thinking of the photo that he'd had in his nightstand. The back of it, with Lyla's writing. Thanks for the advice. She narrowed her eyes. "What…what did you say to her? The advice she thanked you for?" Maybe I could use it.

Tim glanced beyond her out the window, quiet. Did I overstep, Tyra wondered, her arms draped over her knees. He glanced to her again, his voice quiet. "She came back before she graduated. Easter. She didn't know what to do. She got into medical school and law school and other schools…" He trailed off, his face kind of going faraway. He was remembering, Tyra thought, still watching him. He continued, his voice soft. "She didn't know what to do, but she…this African thing was there and she just…she gave up everything to go. Sold everything, she…." He paused again. His voice strengthened a little. "I told her to go. I told her to do it, because…because that's what she's supposed to do. " He glanced towards her, his voice breaking. "And now she's hurt."

Don't blame yourself, she thought, running her tongue over her teeth. "She'll be okay," she whispered. It was crappy advice, but…she could try. She shrugged. "Sounds like good advice you gave her. She thinks so." Told you it was worth everything.

"Hmm," he mumbled, looking out into the hall. He waited a moment, whispering. "It's fine, Tyra. I'm going now."

"What about the cards?" Tyra murmured. He'd said it was her way of talking. There was more to it than just…cards. More to it than just that.

He picked up his backpack. For a moment Tyra didn't think he was going to answer. He'd already shared a lot of personal stuff in the last five minutes than he had with her in ages. If ever. He stepped outside of the room into the hall, turning again, his eyes bright in the moonlight. "It's her way of talking."

"What's that mean Tim?" She immediately followed it with: "Because…you don't need to talk me, I'm sorry. I'm prying."

He shook his head, smiling. "No," he said. He tossed his hair from his eyes, smiling at her. "It's her way of talking to me. We promised not to talk. She sends me things. She sends me the cards. It's her way of telling me how long she's going to be…she said to wait until I got a card from Mexico. That was her way of telling me she was home."

Wow. Tyra smiled, shaking her head. "Get out of here and go to her before I kick you all the way there," she ordered, pointing towards the window.

He laughed. "Yes ma'am."

"I can't believe you wasted this long Tim. You're an idiot."

"She didn't send me the card from Mexico yet, I wasn't sure." He pointed to her, snapping his fingers, as if he was suddenly remembering something. "Take care of Belle. I'll leave you instructions on what to do with her."

Yeah, crap, she had that horse to think about now too. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. Maybe he should just stay and wait for Lyla to return. Whenever that would be. If he did, he'd probably be grouchy and worried. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes narrowing briefly. "Tim, do you…can you think…" She sighed, smiling a little. "What would you do if I said I was going to go apply for a job in a jail?"

He didn't say anything for a moment; through the open windows and moonlight streaming in, she could see that his face was relatively empty. She wondered if maybe she shouldn't have asked him that, if maybe he was getting bad memories. Once or twice she'd heard him yelling in his sleep, probably still having nightmares, but he never talked about it. Suddenly he smiled. "I think it's a job." He shrugged. "Until you get to grad school."

It's a job. That's what she thought too. She lifted her fingertips, watching him step out of the room. "Good luck," she called, hoping that everything went well for him. He waved, jogging down the stairs. A moment later she heard his truck engine roar to life and the headlights streamed over her wall, disappearing a moment later.

It's just a job, until the big thing comes along. She lowered herself back down into the bed; she'd apply tomorrow. She fisted her fingers on the quilt over her chest, staring at the moonlit-dappled ceiling. I'm alone, she thought, closing her eyes. I'm alone, I'm in Dillon, and I don't know what I'm doing again. I'm scared. Tyra opened her eyes, shivering. There was no more Tim to preoccupy herself with. Now what?

She rolled over onto her stomach, burying her face into the pillow. The jail job. I'll apply. At least it was a start.


	10. Return of the Ex

**A/N:**There's a reason I wrote Tim out of the story in the last chapter :) This is where we check in on what Landry's been up to. Thanks so much for the kind reviews, they mean a lot, I'm glad that people enjoy my writing. Enjoy!

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_**Chapter 10: Return of the Ex**_

"Where's Uncle Tim?"

Tyra selected a pair of blue horn-rimmed glasses, offering them to Stevie. "What about these?"

"Too big." Stevie picked out a pair that looked like they belonged to a grandfather from the 1950s. He shoved them onto his face, grinning. "I like these."

"Let's move into this century, Stevie." Tyra took down some wire-framed ones with blue and yellow designs on the earpieces. She held them up to her. "What about these?"

"No." Stevie put them back, walking over to stand on a stool, taking another pair that were black and had flames on the sides. He put them on, peering at his reflection. "Where is Uncle Tim?"

"Germany." Tyra had received a text from him a couple days ago. She didn't expect to hear much from him, since international calls would probably cost him an arm and a leg. She didn't want to call either, not until he was ready. All the text said was that he was at Ramstein, where Lyla was located, and she was doing okay, but he wouldn't be home for awhile.

"Why?"

"Miss Lyla got hurt, so he's going to see her."

"Is she okay?" Stevie took down some yellow ones, but before he had a chance to try the frames on, Tyra was putting them back. He scowled at her, saying nothing. He wandered over to the blue-framed ones she'd suggested a moment before, plucking them off the rack and putting them on his nose.

What a little scholar you resemble. Tyra wasn't sure it was possible for him to be any cuter than he was, but then you put glasses on him and he looked adorable. Like a little nerd. She went over, kissing his cheeks. "You look so cute! So smart!"

"I am smart. I can count to 500 and I read five books for library class. The other kids can only do one!"

A Riggins that might actually go to college and get a degree and everything, Tyra marveled, taking the glasses from him. "Do you want these ones?"

"Yes," Stevie said, following her to the optician, who took the glasses and began to ring up the sale. He looked up at her again, blinking his big dark brown eyes. "So is Miss Lyla okay?" He held up his wrist. "This is my birthday gift." The woven bracelet dangled on his small wrist. He hadn't taken it off since Tim put it on.

She smiled. "Yeah, I think she's okay. Uncle Tim should be home in a couple of weeks. There's going to be a wedding at his house."

"Uncle Tim is getting married?"

The optician whipped her head up, her eyes wide behind wire-framed glasses. "Tim Riggins is getting married?" she asked, looking almost crestfallen. "Really?"

"No," Tyra laughed. She waved her hand, dismissing the notion. "No, we're having a wedding at his house. Julie Taylor and Matt Saracen. Coach Eric Taylor's daughter?"

"Coach who?"

It was sad that this town didn't remember beyond a year, Tyra thought, sighing. She shook her head; reaching for the check Mindy gave her this morning to pay for the rest of Stevie's glasses. She threw down some cash, to help the family out, since this was an expense they hadn't budgeted. She also was beginning to feel a little guilty at taking Mindy's money for babysitting the boys.

They left the eye doctor a few minutes later, Stevie holding her hand to avoid repeat performances of his running across the street act he'd pulled a few weeks ago. She glanced down at him. "Do you want to go get your brothers now from the day camp or do you think we should get something to eat first?" Scotty and Sammy had two days a week at some sort of camp where they "socialized", Mindy said. Tyra thought it was just an excuse to give Stevie some attention, since the twins got a lot of it. They were hams, little screwballs that were like a miniature Billy and Tim, who required constant supervision. Stevie, the older one, often got pushed aside to deal with the twins. She walked with him away from the eye doctor, down the sidewalk to the post office, where she had to mail a couple of deposits for Matt and Julie.

"Do you want to go to the florist with me?" Apparently there was a problem with the flowers and Julie had to have someone browbeat the florist into fixing it.

"I don't like flowers, they make my nose itch."

You might have allergies. Nice, just get the whole little stereotypical geek thing going, Tyra thought, chuckling. "Okay, well let's get lunch. Let's go across the street, we'll get a burger."

"I don't want a burger, I don't like meat."

The stork dropped you at the wrong house. Tyra smiled. She picked him up, tapping his nose. "Well I don't know what to tell you kid, you're in Texas. We eat red meat here. I can get you a turkey burger if we go to Applebees."

He wrinkled his nose. "Okay, I guess."

"Well if it isn't Tyra Collette."

Tyra froze, about to step off the curb, to go across the street. I know that voice. I know that voice very well. She turned her head, but not her body, still holding Stevie. She smiled, nervous. "Landry Clarke," she greeted him, seeing him approach her from the door of the post office. His guitar case was over his shoulder, an airplane tag hanging from the zipper. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "It's nice to see you." It was nice to see him, that wasn't a lie. What was a lie was the smile on her face. I have nothing to be nervous about, we're adults. I did something stupid. I'll apologize. She knew he wasn't going to say or do anything to hurt her here, so she didn't understand why she felt like she was sixteen again. Stevie peered around her to view Landry. He'd never met him before. She cleared her throat, shifting Stevie on her hip and gestured towards Landry. "This is Stevie, my nephew. Stevie, this is Landry, he's a…" She paused, pursing her lip for a brief moment, continuing. "An old friend of mine."

"Hi," Stevie whispered, shy. He was curious about the guitar though, his dark eyes sparkling as he stared at it. He finally blurted out. "Do you play guitar?"

"Yeah," Landry answered. He smiled at Stevie. "Your mom is Mindy, right?"

"Yes. I have two brothers."

"Twins," Tyra explained at Landry's surprised look. She smiled. "Scotty and Sammy, they're holy terrors. I'm watching the three of them this year while on…on a break…gap year." It seemed less depressing than it was if she called it a gap year. Gap years were for cool kids who just had too much to do than find a job or go back to school. She tossed her bangs out of her eyes, feeling it only polite to invite Landry to lunch, since Stevie was wiggling against her, anxious. He didn't like it when they switched up the schedule and he had lunch at noon every day. "We have to get lunch now, would you like…like to come with us?"

He gave her a narrow-eyed look, as if asking 'seriously?' Well, I'm just trying to be polite. Tyra got a better look at him as he stepped off the sidewalk, from beneath the awning of the post office and into the sunlight. His hair was longer; nowhere near as long as Tim's had ever been, but definitely shaggy. He wore scuffed red Chucks with jeans and a t-shirt with some band's name on it and a black jacket, the cuffs rolled to his forearms. He still had another year left at Rice, if she remembered correctly. "Midterm break," he said, without her having to ask. He shrugged his shoulder. "I'm back for midterm break, before the wedding. I'm doing an internship and thesis this semester instead of classes anyway, so I can be out of Houston."

"You're still at Rice?" she confirmed.

"Yeah. Graduating after spring semester. Physics." He smiled quickly, shifting his guitar on his shoulder. He sighed. "I want to be a physics teacher. So…yeah."

That suited him. She didn't know he wanted to be a teacher. She ran her tongue over her teeth, shifting Stevie again. "So we need to get lunch." He was beginning to pull on her hair, saying something about the time being lunchtime. He would start to act out if they didn't stick to the schedule. "Um…you want to drop by for dinner or something later? We can talk…maid of honor to best man."

Landry frowned, nodding. He let go of his guitar case from his back, holding it in his left hand, running his right hand over his hair. "Sure. Are you at Mindy's house?"

"No…I'm actually staying with Tim." A dark look crossed Landry's face. Crap, how that must sound, um…she shook her head quickly. "No, I'm not…Tim and I are not…he's my roommate." That sounded stupid. She sighed again. Collette you are acting like a stupid idiot and you really don't need to be. "Tim's not there. He's in Germany."

He snorted. "Germany? Seriously? Did he join the Army or something?"

"No, he didn't," she laughed. She smiled, dropping Stevie to the ground, her fingers tight in his hand. All this moving around was starting to make her dizzy. "He's actually there with Lyla, she was injured in some accident…she's…doing some humanitarian thing in Africa and got hurt, so they brought her to Germany and he went to be with her." I think that's all the explanation I need to give.

Stevie whined, his face screwing up in a frown. "Aunt Tyra, it's time for lunch."

"I know sweetheart, we'll be there in a second."

"We have to have lunch!"

"Okay," she laughed, trying to diffuse the tension. She lifted his hand, turning to Landry. "I have to get him lunch. Stop by the house, it's past Sycamore Road, just turn left onto Mills and then keep going and turn right onto Manor. Just follow it like you're going out to the old oil fields and it's the only house you'll find. There's a horse that might be out." If I can get home in time and let her roam.

"Horse?"

"I'll explain later." She stepped away from the sidewalk, towards the road to cross to Applebees, smiling quickly. "See you later Landry."

"Bye Tyra."

She walked across the street with Stevie, who was now considerably calmer since they were getting lunch. "Is he your friend?" Stevie asked. They were seated at a table by the window, so Stevie could count cars. He blinked at her. "The boy?"

Tyra leaned back in the booth, smiling and reaching for her iced tea, swirling her spoon and Splenda throughout it. "Yeah, he's a friend." I hope he's still a friend.

"Oh." Stevie slurped up his apple juice. He smiled. "Can I come to the wedding?"

"I don't know, we'll have to ask Julie and Matt," she said, leaning forward on the table, smiling. She narrowed her eyes on his, still grinning. She'd already brought up the topic and Matt had said sure, and make him a ringbearer or something. It was just going to be a surprise; they'd let him know right before the wedding. "But something tells me they won't mind."

He grinned. "Cool."

"Yeah, cool." She reached for her phone, wondering if she was ever going to hear back from the jail. It was strange, putting her eggs in this basket so to speak. She set her phone down. It was Stevie's afternoon. She pushed her job issues out of her mind, leaning forward to listen to him as he explained the virtue of elephants, his favorite thing, to her for the hundredth time. And for the hundredth time, she listened, with rapt attention, plunging into the world of a five-year old, which was considerably more interesting than her own.


	11. Psychoanalyzing a Stripper

**A/N:**This is going to seem to rush the Tyra/Landry stuff, but there's more of them in the coming chapters. Enjoy :)

* * *

_**Chapter 11: Psychoanalyzing a Stripper**_

"Okay and we are…" Tyra stepped back to observe the photograph of Tim's house, the skeleton of it, framed and now hanging on the wall above his couch. She surveyed the angle, smiling in satisfaction. "Done with Tim's house." Not only had she gotten the photo framed, but she'd also gone upstairs into the box of 'her stuff', ignoring his request, and put the knickknacks that Lyla had sent him on shelves inside of a glass-fronted case she'd purchased at an estate sale a couple weeks ago.

She walked into the kitchen, where Angela was finishing up wrapping a package. She rolled her eyes. "Mom, Tim doesn't need a care package."

"Well he's over there all alone…"

"Buddy Garrity is with him, or don't you already know that?"

"Buddy flew back yesterday sweetheart, he's sleeping off jet lag at the house."

"I don't need to know that," she cringed, opening up the fridge. She selected a bottle of water, setting it on the counter. She sighed, gesturing to the box. Might as well find out what her mother sent him, just in case it was alive or something and Angela didn't realize it wouldn't get there by noon tomorrow. "So what did you send Tim?"

Angela shrugged, wiggling her eyebrows. "Just some things he might need that he can't get in Germany. Cookies, a couple of clean t-shirts, and that lovely Skye gave him a couple of pictures of herself that are in there."

"Mom!" I'm going to kill you and Skye. She sighed, leaning on the counter. How did Angela know Skye anyway? Tyra sipped her water. She swallowed, lifting an eyebrow and asked that very question. "And Skye knows that Tim is in Germany?"

Her mother set the box aside, on the small sideboard she'd brought over from the old house. "I don't know if she knows, but she stopped by earlier and dropped off the pictures, since he hasn't called her in awhile. Now there's a girl that knows what to do, Tim Riggins is a great catch now sweetheart, you better try before Skye…"

Tyra slammed the water bottle on the counter, the plastic crunching beneath her hand and spattering water over it. She ignored the mess, scowling at her mother, her hand going to her hip. "Mom, I am not going to end up with Tim, I'm not interested in him that way anymore and I do not, repeat, do not need a guy to justify my existence. I've told you a million times that I am not going to get married or have babies just because I've got the equipment."

Hurt crossed Angela's face. "Well I don't know why you have to be so mean about it," she sniffed. She reached for her purse. "I guess I'll just go."

Mom…enough with the passive aggressiveness. "Mom," she said, reaching for her. She wrapped her arms around Angela's shoulders. "I'm sorry, I was harsh."

"You just get like this sometimes and I don't know what I've done to deserve it."

You've only ever gone after men, refusing to live to your potential…no matter how hard I try or just when I think I've finally gotten through, you turn around and drop everything for a guy with money. Tyra stepped back, her hands remaining on Angela's elbows. "Mom, I love you, I really do, but please understand, I'm not going after Tim or any other guy right now. That's not my plan."

The words her mother threw back weren't meant to hurt, much like Mindy's hadn't been meant to hurt, but hurt they did. "And what is your plan sweetheart? You speak of it all the time, but I don't know what it is." Angela blinked. Her words soft. "I don't think you know what it is sometimes honey." She kissed her cheek, giving her another hug. "I'm going to send this to Tim. Billy gave me the address of where he is over there."

"Mom, please don't send him that. He's with someone."

"That's not what Skye said."

That's because Skye is a dumbass that doesn't understand she's only one of many notches in Tim's belt. I'll have to have that come to Jesus talk with her. She shook her head, whispering. "I'll see you later Mom."

"Are you going to stop at the bar tonight?"

"I don't know, Landry Clarke's in town, I was going to have dinner with him."

Angela's nose wrinkled, but she smiled quickly. "Landry Clarke was a lovely boy, he really helped out around the house."

I clearly speak another language around you. Tyra shook her head in disbelief, her eyes rolling. "Later Mom. I love you."

"I love you too," Angela drawled, walking to the front door and out of the house. I love my mother; I love my mother, Tyra repeated to herself. It was just a fact of life that Angela Collette lived by a different set of rules and values than she did. Neither would ever understand, no matter how hard they tried. She wanted to warn Tim about the incoming package with likely nude photos of Skye, but figured he'd have to explain to Garrity eventually about what he'd been up to while they'd been apart. Although Lyla knew Tim almost as well as if not more than her, so she probably already had an inkling that he wasn't a monk.

If they were even together. Tyra pushed a chair she'd found on discount at the thrift store into place in the corner of the room, throwing a blanket over the corner. She turned around, surveying her interior designer skills. Not bad, she concluded. It was practically livable. The doorbell she'd installed earlier rang throughout the house. It was a funny gong, which she realized after the person hit it three more times in succession was going to annoy her more than it would annoy Tim. Annoying him was the sole purpose why she chose that sound.

She went to the front door, tugging it open. Skye stood on the other side wearing not much of anything. What there was was hot pink to match the streaks in her hair. Skye clicked her gum, glancing her up and down. She arched a black eyebrow, not impressed.

"I wear clothes when I go out in public," Tyra said. Not that she had to justify her t-shirt, jeans and boots combo, which was her general outfit when she came back to Dillon.

Skye frowned. "I wear clothes."

"You wear a bra and short-shorts that look like they belong on a five-year old."

"You're a bitch, your sister is a lot nicer."

"My sister can be a bitch when she wants." Tyra leaned against the doorframe, wishing she had a witness. She frowned when a car pulled into the driveway, a nice rental. Speak of the devil. She shrugged a shoulder. "What can I do for you Skye?"

"Look if you are sleeping with Tim, just let me know, okay? Because I don't share and I don't do three-ways. Not since I was twenty and in a sorority."

Wow. You're a winner. Tyra smiled. "I'm not dating Tim sweetheart, I'm also not really sure if you are anymore. He's not here. He left the country."

Skye swallowed hard, her confident face falling. "He's here. He'd tell me if he left the country. That's a stupid excuse. Tim!"

Poor girl. Caught in Riggins world. "He's really, not here," Tyra said, stepping in front of the door when Skye made a move to push her aside and go in. She saw Landry get out of the car, pausing and watching, turning around to get back inside. "Landry, you can come in, I'm almost done here."

The stripper, who clearly had issues, tried to sidestep her again. "No," she repeated, shaking her head again. A pink chunk of hair fell in her eyes. Skye was really pretty, Tyra noticed. She had green eyes that stood out against her black hair and alabaster skin. Whatever her natural hair color was, brown or blonde, she'd look almost like a doll, with her bright eyes and large pink lips. "Please," she said. She swallowed hard again, shifting on her high heels. "Tim and I are…"

Tyra stepped off onto the porch, her hand going to Skye's shoulder. She drew back when Skye pushed it away. Okay, not one of those. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Look, Skye, if that's your real name, I've been there, okay? I've been there, wondering if he's going to call me, wondering if I can do anything to get his attention. Anything. I tried to date every other guy on his football team to get him to care about me and he didn't. I even flirted with his brother. Nothing." That was a low moment.

She walked to the edge of the porch, where Landry had appeared. Skye turned, following her gaze, but still didn't move. "I'm sorry that Tim didn't let you know up front and I'm not making excuses for him, but something happened that took up his attention. I'm sure when he comes back, he'll explain." I'll make sure of it, I thought he was over this crap. "But you have to get over this. It's the twenty-first century, it's 2012, we can be women and we can do whatever we want without a guy. You have potential, Skye! Didn't you want to do something other than be a stripper?"

Skye swished her lips around. She shifted her weight again, her arms crossing over her chest. "I wanted to be a dancer."

I can see why stripping appealed to you then, Tyra thought, glancing Skye up and down. She had a dancer's body. "So go be a dancer!" She pointed to the road. "Get in your car and go do something for yourself, not because a guy wants it. If you want to be a stripper because hell, you just love it so much and you feel empowered to do it…" She was thinking of Mindy, who did it because she wanted to do it, not because she had to anymore. "Then that's cool, do it! But if you don't want to, then go out there and do what you want! Tim Riggins is not worth the effort you are putting into keeping him." Tyra lifted her eyebrow, her arms crossed over her chest. "Because Skye, this is harsh, but you're not someone else."

Skye stepped off the porch. She wrapped her arms around her tightly, smiling shakily. "She…there was someone else, wasn't there? I mean, I guess I knew, but…it started off as fun…just for fun, because he was hot…but…"

Yeah, I know, I've been there. Then you fall in love and you're sixteen and stupid and don't know any better. Until suddenly you do. Tyra smiled quickly. "Yeah. There's someone else. There's always been someone else." Whether it was Lyla or Jason or just Tim's thoughts, he was always distracted by something or someone else.

Skye smiled a little, glancing around and sighing. "I can't believe he just…left without saying anything. I mean, we weren't serious, but still…what a jackass."

"He is a jackass."

"Yeah." Skye sighed, not saying anything else and walked off towards her car. I hope I convinced her, Tyra thought, waving as she drove off. Maybe I saved someone today. I think that's what I wanted to do with my time in the first place.

Once Skye was gone, she heard clapping behind her. It startled her, realizing Landry was still there. "Oh," she laughed. She smiled. "Yeah, sorry about that, I didn't think I was going to have to talk a crazy stripper off the property."

"I didn't think I was going to watch you talking a crazy stripper off the property." Landry reached out, giving her a proper hug, since earlier she'd been holding Stevie. "How are you Tyra?"

"I'm good. Come inside, you want anything to drink?"

"I'm fine."

They went into the house. Landry wrinkled his nose against the smell of paint. "Sorry," she apologized, walking around the staircase. She gestured to the left of the entryway, which just led to a small nook for coats and shoes, before the hall led around the staircase into the living room, which stretched to the kitchen. She pointed to the right, at the open door into the study, where she'd moved the desk and Internet connections. "This is the study, or a bedroom, maybe…um, this is the kitchen…"

"Nice. Tim did this himself?"

"All of it, I guess. I'm sure he had some help, but yeah, this is his little…thing." She wasn't sure what to call it. Dream? It sounded cheesy. Besides, it wasn't her story to tell. She stepped to the Sub-Zero. "Are you sure you don't want anything? I know I said we'd have dinner, but I don't have anything planned or…I mean, I can make sandwiches or…" Gosh I feel like an idiot. I don't think I need to feel like an idiot.

Maybe I do, I did leave him without an explanation and four years later…here we are. She turned around, leaning against the fridge. Landry stood beside the counter, which curved out from the wall in lieu of a kitchen island. It was a small house, when she thought about it. She could take about five large steps and cross from the door to the laundry room to the entryway to the living room.

It made this feel intimate and intensely awkward. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her shoulders deflating. She moved away from the fridge, leaning sideways against the counter. "I'm really sorry about…what I did."

"Could have apologized four years ago."

I could have, but I didn't realize…she closed her eyes, her lips pursing. She opened them, meeting his. He was hurt. Who wouldn't be? Getting abandoned on the side of a road without so much as a phone call. I never really 'broke up' with him. Not the way most people did, even when they went away to college and started their new lives. "I know," she said.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. "It hurt, Tyra, you know…you using me all through high school…only to just leave without saying anything, just dumping me yet again. I guess I'm just sorry for you."

What? Her forehead wrinkled. Landry continued, laughing slightly. "I'm sorry that you think you have to use people to get what you want. For someone that came from nothing, who fought her way up through a ton of crap, you're pretty selfish."

That was the second person in a month to say that about her. She felt tears prick the corners of her eyes, blinking away quickly. "Selfish?" she whispered, swallowing her dry throat. "Well, you must really…really hate me."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Why would I hate you? I don't hate you, Tyra. I'm just glad that I didn't wonder the rest of my life about you. The one that got away, wondering if maybe we should have broken up or something, but no, I'm glad. Gave me a chance to do what I wanted. Find someone I wanted." He sighed, shaking his head, glancing down at his feet. "I just broke up with someone, so maybe this is coming at a not-so-great time."

"I'm sorry," she said instantly.

"Me too." Landry pushed his fingers through his hair; it was a nervous gesture, something he'd never done before. He dropped his hand down to his side. "Look, Tyra, this was nice, you inviting me here, but…I think we need to let bygones be bygones and just go our separate ways. Our best friends are getting married, so…we're bound to see each other from time to time, but we'll just keep our distance. Acquaintances."

I don't know if I want to just be acquaintances. She wiped at her eyes. "Landry, I'm really sorry. Please let me explain."

"No, you don't…"

I have to explain. "Call me selfish," she whispered, trying to smile. She stepped away from the counter, towards the French doors on the other side of the kitchen, pushing them open. It made the postcards on either side rustle with the light breeze filtering through the cracked door.

Landry followed her out onto the porch. She sat down in an old bench she'd pulled from a dumpster, by the park. They were installing new ones. She thought it looked neat. "I'm really sorry about what I did to you, I don't have an excuse for why I chose to just…ignore you completely after I got to UT." She bit her lower lip. That night had been hell for her, fretting around her dorm room, wondering if she'd made a mistake doing it that way.

A couple of weeks later, she'd forgotten completely about it, too involved in her new life at college, vowing to never return to Dillon, even if it was for family stuff. Only big family things would bring her back home. Things like Christmas after Tim left jail, when Mindy called her, crying about how she had to come home, because the family was falling apart and she couldn't handle it anymore by herself.

She still avoided prolonged trips. Until this one. "I don't know why I did it that way and I'm sorry, um…I just didn't want anything else with Dillon. Even if it was a friend…I didn't want the tie anymore. I had to cut it off completely." She'd realized it, sometime later. It just kind of hit her one day. Completely out of the blue.

So it was easier to avoid him, to break it off in a way that wouldn't have him calling her all the time or trying to get back with her. "I heard that you got a girlfriend shortly after I broke up with you anyway." Julie told her. Some girl named Jess.

"Yeah and she went off with a guy she liked more. Had for a long time before me." Landry smiled a little, looking down at his Chucks. "I haven't thought about Jess in forever."

"Nice to know we're reliving high school." Tyra tossed her hair out of her eyes. I have got to get it cut. It was getting way too long. She twisted her fingers around together. So where did they go from here? She looked up. Landry was still looking at his shoes. "So you're best man, huh?"

What a terrible segue. Landry smiled a little, still looking at his shoes. "Yeah. They're finally getting married."

"I know, it feels like they've been engaged for forever."

"Two years."

"You didn't celebrate with us when they got engaged," she said, looking up. She smiled again. It probably wouldn't have been great then though. The two of them awkward and strange with each other while Julie and Matt attempted to celebrate. Tyra stood up from the bench, her hands going into her pockets. "So, do you still want to get dinner?"

"Sure." Landry straightened up from where he was leaning against the porch railing. "So do you want Applebees, or…" He laughed when she pushed at his shoulder lightly. "Just asking."

"I think anything other than Applebees will be fine."

"So what are you doing back in Dillon?" His voice was clipped. "I thought the reason I helped you to get to college was because you had plans. Seems like you're throwing it away."

I deserve that. She cleared her throat, shrugging. "I…it's a long story." Tyra picked up her purse, slinging it over her shoulder. "Do you want to drive? I can tell it."

"Sure." He removed his keys, walking out of the house first while she turned, locking the door behind her. He frowned, pointing to the paddock. "Is that a horse?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you were joking."

Crap, I have to feed her. Tyra set her purse on the ground, holding up her finger. "Just give me a minute, I need to feed her. It shouldn't take long."

"This I have to see."

She rolled her eyes, jogging to the paddock where Belle perked up, whinnying happily at the sight of her. The two of them were getting on splendidly. Belle had only tried to kick her three times and had almost peed on her twice while getting brushed. "Look at the great Tyra Collette, feeding a horse in Dillon, Texas. I thought you had plans to get out of here," Landry laughed, holding his arms out. "What happened?"

What happened indeed, Tyra wondered, dropping a bag of feed into Belle's trough.


	12. Drinking and Apologizing

**_Chapter 12: Drinking and Apologizing_**

"So this will be your office…it's not much." The main psychologist for the Carr County Correctional Facility gestured to a small broom cupboard, or at least, that's what Tyra figured it was. Her name was Anita and she split her time between working at the hospital and the prison. Tyra found her a very strange person, but she figured if you were a psychologist specializing in post-prison rehabilitation then you had to be a strange person.

Tyra set her bag on the battered metal desk. It was covered in dings and scratches and…holy shit, are those teeth marks, she wondered, glancing at the top. She straightened up, tugging on her suit jacket, smiling at Anita's amused look. "Thank you, it's…something."

"I was going to have to recommend therapy for you if you said it was nice," Anita teased, beckoning her out of the office. She waved to the desk. "You can leave your stuff there. As you can see, we work in the annex; it's where the parole offices are and the prison administration. The prison itself is across the street. We don't go there unless you have to do therapy or one-on-one sessions. Since you're new and don't have experience working with prisoners, we're going to ease you into some of the sessions. You're just going to start with organizing paperwork…"

She listened as Anita explained to her the filing system, her mind racing, trying to keep everything straight as she was introduced to various officers, prison officials, and other staff members and at the same time be told about policies and practices. Anita finally let her go, after she'd already begun work at developing a new program for incoming inmates to take classes.

I thought this was entry-level and a nice part-time gig, Tyra thought, leaving the prison and going out to her car. She glanced back at the imposing building behind her. It was where Tim spent his year. She ran her tongue over her teeth, sighing and climbing into her truck. There were several voicemails on her phone, but she set it aside for later. She could so use a post-work drink. She turned around at the end of the street, heading for Dillon and for Buddy's.

Several minutes later she was parked on a stool at the end of the bar, sipping a tall vodka tonic and eating peanuts, while Angela attempted to make a Long Island iced tea. She glanced over her shoulder each time the door opened, somewhat expecting to see Tim and still not used to the fact that he wasn't around. "Hey Mom," she called, nibbling on a peanut. "You said Buddy was back?"

"Yeah, he's in the back room sweetie, you want another?"

"Mom I've barely finished this one"

"Oh well alright, hey there sweetie!" Angela cooed, immediately going to flirt and get a beer for a trucker who just walked in. She is too good at this job, Tyra thought with a small smile, seeing her mother tuck tips into her back pocket.

"This seat taken?" Tyra looked up from where she'd been spinning her coaster, smiling at Landry. He sat down beside her without her permission, not that he needed it, and nodded to her drink. "That's pretty big."

"It's been a big drink kind of day." Tyra took a sip of the big drink, swallowing it hard and making a face. She smiled. "First day in jail."

"You're in jail now?"

"Working there. Part-time. I'm an assistant administrator counselor something, I don't know. It's just until I can get into grad school." She leaned on the bar, glancing at him. He looked just like the same old Landry. Ripped jeans, tennis shoes, and…she frowned. "Is that a Crucivictorious t-shirt?"

"Airline lost my luggage and I've been living off of about three or four shirts for the last week." Landry smiled, looking up when Angela sauntered over. He lifted his fingers in a slight wave. "Hey there Mrs. Collette, how are you doing?"

"Ah!" Angela exclaimed, reaching over to hug and kiss him. She pulled away, after almost smothering Landry in her cleavage, which Tyra wondered was on purpose, and began removing liquor from beneath the bar. "What can I make you sweetie? Anything you want, it's on the house!"

That means you pay for it Mom, but Tyra didn't want to disappoint her mother. She shook her head, gesturing to Landry. "This one can't hold his liquor Mom."

"Hey now, I've been in college the last three years. I've had more practice."

"With all the other physics majors?"

"You'd be surprised. If you know the laws of physics and can master them, then you can do anything, including…" Landry lifted his eyebrows, grinning. "Win every game of beer pong ever played."

Oh my God. Beer Pong. I cannot imagine…she shook her head, absolutely disbelieving. So she chose to just sip her vodka tonic, while Landry nursed his beer. They didn't say much for the next several minutes, until Tyra finally broke the silence between them, her voice quiet as she twirled her coaster again. "I never thought I'd get a job in jail."

The sounds of bar seemed to just pass between them. People arguing, the TVs playing football nonstop, Angela's baudy laughter, cheesy country music blaring from the speakers in the wall and footsteps on the hardwood dance floor. It wasn't until Landry spoke, soft and quiet, did Tyra realize that she'd almost been asleep, zoning out with her eyes still open. She jumped slightly on the vinyl barstool, swiveling to face him. Landry had been watching her, his head propped on his hand, the beer bottle still half-full on the coaster in front of his hand. "You know Tyra, coming back here doesn't really suit you. Even if you have a job and all that."

"You think I don't know that?"

"I'm just saying. You should probably figure stuff out fast." He sighed, muttering. "And I'm not helping you this time."

Yeah, I know. Tyra glanced at her watch. She felt antsy. Uncomfortable all of a sudden with him sitting so close to her and reading her mind. She was tired and a little buzzed. She reached into her wallet, throwing down some cash for the drinks, not tipping her mother since she used Three Olives when Tyra specifically asked for Grey Goose. "Yeah," she mumbled, shoving her wallet back in her worn tote bag. She glared at Landry. She felt mean. "Figure my stuff out? You think you're the first person in two months to tell me that? And even if you were, you think I'd listen to you?"

She slid off the stool, cursing as she twisted her ankle, storming as best as she could out of the bar, tears filling her eyes. She raked her fingers through her hair, reaching her truck, stopping. I can't drive. Damnit. She reached into her bag, knowing Mindy wasn't working, otherwise she'd have to be watching the boys. Mindy could come pick her up. Billy's truck pulled in beside her and he honked his horn. "What's up Tyra? Hey, I heard from Tim, he's still in Germany. The idiot said it's the best beer in the world when I asked him what he was doing." He shifted, speaking quickly. "He didn't tell me anything else. Not a damn thing else." Which meant that he did, but he swore you to secrecy, and I don't care, Tyra thought, ignoring Billy's shiftiness.

"That's…" Tyra tossed her hair over her shoulder, trying to smile. She sniffed. "That's great Billy." She finally forced a smile. He didn't get it, thankfully, giving her a wave and whistling his way into the bar, a playbook beneath his arm.

She leaned back against the truck, fumbling with her stupid flipphone. Landry had an iPhone. She wanted one, but no, she couldn't afford the damn thing. Maybe after a few weeks at the prison she'd have enough to cover the cost of one. Along with her credit card, which she'd almost maxed out buying stuff for Tim's house. I don't even know why I'm caring about his house. She slid down the side of the truck, slumping against the tire. She rubbed at her forehead, a tear tracking down her cheek. "I wanted out so bad," she mumbled.

A shadow crossed over her. She lifted her eyes, dully looking up at Landry, who had his hands in his pockets. He's pitying me. "What?" she demanded.

"Stop being an idiot." Hey now. She lifted an eyebrow, surprised. She pursed her lips, her jaw tensing. Landry offered his hand. He wiggled his fingers, his face hard. "Come on, get up Tyra, this is stupid. I'll take you home."

"I don't want you to take me home, I'll call Mindy."

"Does it matter if Mindy takes you or me? Because with either, we're both going to tell you to stop feeling sorry for yourself." Landry led her away from her truck; she'd have to have Mindy take her back to it tomorrow morning. Or maybe Angela could drive it home. Tyra followed him to the rental car, climbing in the passenger seat. It still smelled new.

He said nothing, putting the car into gear and driving away, turning out of the parking lot with a slight squeal of the tires. Tyra glanced sideways. She hoped he wasn't really angry with what she said. She bit her bottom lip, whispering. "I'm sorry…I can't seem to stop being…mean to you."

"You're mean to everyone."

"I am not."

"So it really is just me then?" He glanced at her, but he wasn't smiling this time, not like he had when he was making comments like that last week. He'd been here a whole week and she hadn't seen much of him since their initial dinner. Tyra didn't know if she'd cleared the air with them or if he'd just placated her. He lifted his chin, whispering. "You're a mess."

It hurt. It really, really hurt to hear him say that. Mindy could think it, Mindy could joke about her being bitter and angry. Tim could tell her to get her stuff together and that she'd be fine without him. Angela could just tell her to find a guy because who cared if she went to college…even Julie could say that she was selfish and entitled, but all of them didn't hurt as much as that statement from Landry Clarke. I am a mess. I'm a pathetic selfish mess who is still bitter and angry. What is wrong with me? Why am I pitying myself? I never did that before. She wiped at her eyes, smearing mascara. I never pitied myself for anything I ever did or for whatever happened to me. And a lot of shit had happened to her in her life.

Landry didn't say anything after that, pulling her into the driveway of Tim's house. He nodded to the horse. "You have to do anything for her?"

"No, she's fine," Tyra mumbled. She'd made sure to get one of Billy's football players to feed Belle. Tim said that if she couldn't do it, the kid could. He paid him or something, since he worked on a farm. She walked away from the car, not saying anything, not even looking at Landry.

While she fought with the keys to the front door, Landry called out to her. "You know I'm not sorry I said what I said, because you are a mess, but I'm sorry that you think you have to pity yourself because of it."

"Go away Landry!" she shouted, fighting with the door and finally pushing it open. She tripped on her way into the foyer, kicking the rug she'd bought across the hardwood. She threw down everything on the sideboard against the wall, storming into the kitchen. Landry followed her, shutting the front door behind him. "What are you doing? I said go away!"

"You're a mess Tyra, because this isn't you!" Landry shouted.

"I have a job now! That is me! I have a job and I applied to graduate school and all I have to do now is wait, I'm doing what I should be doing and I'm not sitting around like I was weeks ago!" It didn't matter if she wasn't sitting around; she was still clueless. She wiped at her eyes again, walking to the French doors and fought with the damn doorknob. It pushed out instead of pulled in, which she always forgot. She kicked the door, when she couldn't get it open.

The postcards rustled beside her. "Damnit!" She pointed to the cards. "Lyla Garrity goes all around the world teaching little kids English and she gets attacked by a bunch of cattle raiders or something in the Congo or wherever, while Tim Riggins is rushing to her side like the white knight that every girl ever wanted him to be. Mindy is a manager of a strip club but she's got this great life with a husband who is the football coach and three beautiful children. My mother has a stable job believe it or not because she's sleeping with her boss again and she's actually happy and even the freaking stripper that I saved decided to quit and is going back to dance school." Mindy told her that about Skye, which made Tyra happy but at the same time it annoyed her.

She slammed her hands on the counter, grabbing it and laughing at him. "And I'm just here, because I didn't plan my life beyond getting into college and now I'm stuck, wasting another year, doing anything I can to get out of Dillon! I don't know what I want!"

Landry waited, his arms crossed over his chest. He shrugged, whispering. "Are you done?"

"Yes, I'm done!"

"Good, because you're doing what you should do, but stop moping about it because you're not making 100K the first year of your life and living in some penthouse in New York or wherever," Landry shouted. He held his arms out, laughing. "Tyra, you have a job! It's a part-time job at a prison, but at least it's close to your degree. Do you know how many kids out there also don't have jobs or grad school plans? Stop acting like you're the only one to ever have to come back home and wait it out until the good thing comes along. Or at least, until you go find that good thing."

She drew back. I am not…I am. I am sitting around moping. She set her jaw. Landry continued, his voice softening. "You got out of Dillon the first time Tyra. You got into the University of Texas with your grades. This is temporary and you know…you may not know what exactly you want, but…you're twenty-two. No one said you had to get your life figured out by the time you were twenty-two."

"But…" She was about to say that Tim did or at least, at least other people did. Matt and Julie did.

Landry snorted, walking towards her, his voice soft. "You think Tim Riggins has his life figured out? This is a great house, but he still works odd jobs and he just ran off to Germany."

She nodded in agreement, mumbling. "To go be with his high school girlfriend."

"Talk about a stupid thing to do."

Yeah. It was stupid. Tyra tossed her hair from her eyes. She shook her head, whispering. She felt defeated. "I just don't know what I want and it's so frustrating," she whispered.

"Welcome to the real world Tyra, lots of us don't know what we want." Landry reached to cover her hand with his, quiet again. "And you got out the first time. Just think about that."

Yeah, I did. She sniffed, wiping her eyes briefly. I hate crying, it always gives me a headache. Makes my face puffy. She swallowed hard. "I'm not selfish. I'm not bitter. I don't like that they said that." She scowled. "Or that you said it."

"I think I'm someone who is more than able to say you're selfish, Tyra." Landry's voice softened. "I'm glad you're sorry about what happened between us, but you were selfish there. It was about you. You could have done it different."

I know, I know, and we've been over this. Tyra raked her fingers through her hair. She closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead, trying to stave off the headache. "I'm so sorry Landry." I don't think there's anything I can say or do to show you how sorry I am. She bit her bottom lip, looking out at the backyard. "Maybe I am selfish, but…it's only because I deserve this. I deserve to get out and have stuff that's more than Dillon, look at the crap I went through."

"Yeah, you do deserve it, but it's how you go about it sometimes that I think people can say you're selfish, but no, deep down you're not. You're just…" Landry sighed. "Tired of waiting around." He shrugged. "You're the psychology major now Tyra, you should be telling that all to yourself anyway."

Shrink myself, sure. She quirked her lip, her eyes lifting to scan his face. He was looking at her with so much…she wanted to say love, but it wasn't love. It was just…admiration. "You always cared about me," she murmured. She felt a wave of regret wash over her. It felt like nausea. She hiccupped, her voice barely coming out through the tears. "I am so, so sorry."

She stepped around the counter, reaching to wrap her arms around him, sobbing. He held her tight. The apology the week before had been the textbook apology. What she had to do because…well because she had to say it, but…she was so sorry. She cried, because she was selfish whens he broke up with him. She did it the way she did to make herself feel better. Not out of deference to him. It could have been done…better.

Landry smoothed his hands over her back, whispering into her ear. "I told you, I've long forgiven you Tyra."

"I just didn't want ties."

"I know."

"You're such a great guy," she mumbled, pulling away. She stepped away from him, going into the bathroom and taking a hand towel, wiping at her face and running it under cool water, freshening herself up. She blew her nose, speaking through the Kleenex, walking back out into the kitchen, kicking her shoes away to the laundry room. She sniffed again, her puffy eyes connecting with his compassionate ones. "I'm just sorry that I…I guess I didn't appreciate it the way I do now."

"Yeah." Landry looked down at his feet, his voice soft again. "I told you Tyra…I've forgiven you. I understand…we can't all be like Matt and Julie."

No, we can't. She nodded to the postcards, whispering. "Or Tim and Lyla."

Landry made a face. "No one wants to be like those two. They're weird. If they ever have kids and have to explain how they got together…yeah." He smiled again, joking. "But Matt and Julie…"

Tyra nodded, trying to smile, but she was beat. She shrugged, her arms crossing over her chest, mumbling. "I'm a prison counselor."

"I'm a physics teacher-in-training."

"We could go on the road."

He stepped away from the counter, taking her hands into his and squeezing hard. "You'll figure it out Tyra. Even if it takes you going through a grad school program you don't even know you want or…or takes you a million jobs."

"I'm not bitter," she mumbled again.

"You kind of are, but it isn't you. You're more a kick-ass and take names gir."

Yeah. She smiled. "Maybe prison counseling is good for me."

"I can't wait until you break up a fight, that will be funny."

Yeah. Funny. She sighed. I need to go to bed; I'm tired of this. She let go of his hands, nodding to the door, whispering. "Thank you for taking me home. I'll walk you out."

"Do you have plans tomorrow?"

Tyra leaned on the open door, shaking her head. "No, Mindy's working the morning and afternoon shift, so I have the boys, but…nothing in the evening. I'm at the prison the day after."

"You want to grab dinner?"

She glanced from the driveway to the barn area. Belle had gone inside for the night. She smiled. "Sure. Come here, we'll eat out on the porch and I'll take you for a ride."

Landry's face screwed up, confused. "Huh?"

Oh crap, no, not that. She giggled, ducking her head and smiling. "No, I mean…I'll take you out on Belle. I'm still getting used to her, but…it should be fun."

"Yeah, sure. I'll call you tomorrow," Landry said, stepping off the porch. He turned around, walking backwards to the car. "We're friends?" he asked, slightly uncertain.

Friends. "Yeah," she answered, leaning on the porch post, watching him drive away. She sighed, shaking her head. It was really late; it was so dark outside. She turned and went inside, closing and locking everything down. And she felt much better when she went to sleep, like something had lifted itself from her shoulders. Or like the elephant had finally left the room, she thought with a small smile.


	13. Counseling From Mrs T

**_Chapter 13: Counseling from Mrs. T_**

"So how is prison?"

"You know that was funny the first two hundred times you said it, but now it's just annoying." Tyra reached into the bag between both of them, removing a French fry, taking a chomp. She chewed for a second, finishing it and reaching for another. She looked out at the boys, who were running around, tiring each other out.

Well, Scotty and Sammy were tiring each other out, while Stevie sat in a chair in the shade, reading a book. Landry smiled and pointing to him. "I like that one."

"Stevie's…unique."

"Nothing wrong with that." Landry leaned back on the park bench, stretching his feet across to set on the porch railing. He crossed his arms over his chest. "So the wedding is in three days. When is everyone getting in?"

"They're already here. Coach and Mrs. Taylor are making the rounds visiting friends and the football team and everything…" Tyra tried to remember what Julie told her. She and Matt were going to see some other people and make final arrangements and then they'd stop by tomorrow to start setting up. They'd all go to the football game on Friday and then Saturday was the day. She still had to take Julie out for one last girl's night, which she hoped would be tomorrow. That would give her all day Friday to recover. She glanced at Landry, who was fiddling with his phone. "So how is school?"

"It's fine. My dad told me that he pulled you over on your way into Dillon. Said you were just sitting on the side of the road, what was that about?"

"I didn't want to cross the line," she said, chuckling. It felt ages ago, sitting in the car on the side of the road. Now she was babysitting the boys, planning the Taylor-Saracen wedding, living with Tim Riggins, working in a prison, and talking with the ex-boyfriend she'd horribly dumped like their history as no big deal. "So how is your mom and dad?"

"They're thinking of moving to Florida when I finish school and my dad retires. My grandpa is there now and they want to take care of him." Landry tossed a fry in the air, catching it in his mouth and chewing. He swallowed, leaning in to get another. "Means I won't be coming back to Dillon."

Wow. That was…finite. Tyra swished her lips around, whispering. "When would that be?"

"I don't know. Probably in June or July."

Tyra released a long breath, she ahdn't realized she'd been holding. She wouldn't see him when she came back to visit Dillon either. She guessed it didn't matter. They were friends. Friends didn't always see each other. We're growing up, having our own lives. We already do. She tucked her hair behind her ear. "You know," she murmured, scanning Tim's land. She smiled. "I spent 18 months in Austin before I came back to Dillon. My mom came and saw me sometimes, but…I never came back here. Not until…"she trailed off, unsure where she was going.

"Until Tim got out of prison?" Landry smiled a little, ducking his head, his voice quiet. "I was here, on Christmas break too. I talked with Matt. He said that they were going to go celebrate the engagement with you at the bar, but…I didn't go because I knew…well he kind of said that Julie told him you and Tim…guess that didn't go far."

"Didn't go beyond break," she answered. She leaned back, sighing hard. "No, we're just friends. Close friends, but…friends." She wondered what would happen when he returned with Lyla. Surely he'd return with Lyla in tow, she couldn't imagine him not returning with her. He'd been in Germany for almost three weeks. That was longer than he'd ever been away from Dillon other than prison.

She sat forward, clapping her hands when the twins began to wander. "Come back guys! Hey, I have French fries!"

"I was still eating those!"

"Tough noogies."

"You're bribing children."

"It's the easiest way to get them to do what you want," Tyra said. She grabbed the French fries, using it almost as bait to lure them into the house. It was mean, but she wanted them to come back anyway and this was the easiest. She looked up when the front door opened, Mindy calling out for them. "In here!"

Mindy emerged around the corner, cooing for the twins who shouted "Mommy!" the second they saw her. "Hello my babies," she said, kissing their cheeks and letting them go, stealing a fry from the plate Tyra set them out on. "How were they today?"

"Pretty good. Stevie and I went to the library while these guys were at their play date thing." Tyra looked up when Landry entered the kitchen holding Stevie on his hip. She cleared her throat at Mindy's knowing look. "Landry stopped by to hang out. Brought us burgers and fries, so they're set for dinner."

"I see," Mindy drawled. She smiled, taking Stevie from Landry. "Thanks Landry."

"Sure thing Mindy." Landry cleared his throat, glancing at his phone, which rang with something that Tyra recognized from Star Wars. "Um, that's Matt, he's free from family stuff, we're going to hang out tonight. He said that Mrs. Taylor and Julie are on their way."

"Great." She looked at Mindy, who was frowning curiously. "I'm having dinner with Mrs. Taylor, Gracie, and Julie tonight. Then Julie and I will have our girl's night tomorrow, before the wedding. You want to come?"

"I'll probably be working, so who will be with the kids?"

"I don't know Mindy, get your husband to do it."

"He's got Laribee on Friday night."

Ugh, football and this town. Tyra walked Landry to the front door, giving him a quick hug. "I'll see you later."

"Sure."

She closed the door behind her, walking back into the kitchen. The boys were in the living room, watching some cartoon on the TV. "What Mindy?" she asked, knowing that Mindy had questions.

"Landry, huh? You're going down that route again?"

"Mindy, I'm back in Dillon, I'm still figuring some stuff out, and he helped me. We're just…" she sighed, crumpling up trash and tossing it into the bag beneath the sink. She straightened up, moving to wash her hands. "I guess we're just trying to be friends because the alternative is too depressing."

"You know that you would never have spoken to Tim again if I didn't marry Billy."

"I…" she trailed off. That was correct. She'd never have spoken to him. They'd have gone their separate ways like they did, Tim would have…well who knows what would have happened to him if he'd still gone to jail, which maybe he wouldn't have, because Billy wouldn't have been pressured to get money for his family and done something stupid. Tyra shook her head, knocking the alternate universe out of her head. "It doesn't matter Mindy. Maybe we're just trying to be friends because we know after this we won't ever see each other again."

"You're delaying the inevitable Tyra."

"Then I am, whatever. I just…felt bad about how I ended it and…and he showed me some things about me that…well he helped a little bit I guess." Tyra washed her hands of grease from the fries, dusting them off on a handtowel, dropping it over the hook she'd attached to the wall next to the sink.

Mindy cleared her throat. "Well I'm going to go. Billy is going to try to come home early tonight or else we're going to the fieldhouse to bother him. Just so you know, I know that Tim isn't talking to anyone but Billy because he doesn't want to waste his minutes on his phone, but he said that he's going to be home next week." She ducked her head, mumbling. "He's got some news, but I can't say. Billy told me." She squealed. "But I want to tell you so much!" She sobered immediately. "But I won't. Billy will kill me. Tim will kill me."

I don't care. "Lyla coming with him?"

"Uh…yeah. Most likely. Buddy told Mom that Lyla was shot, she had some bad blood loss, but I guess she'll be okay. She hurt her leg pretty bad too, but I guess she's just got to do some physical therapy and she can be back at teaching in third world countries in no time." Mindy picked up Scotty, who came to her holding his arms up. "Let's go kids."

They all protested, not wanting to leave Tyra and the horse. She watched them leave, smiling at all the boys, waving and saying goodbye, she'd see them tomorrow. She waited until they were gone before returning to the house, walking out the back door and to Belle, who looked bored. Belle sniffed her hands, nibbled one of the apples she brought her, and promptly walked away. "Ugh, you hate me," Tyra complained. She leaned on the paddock, sighing and watching the pretty animal. She read that animals could be therapy for people, especially kids. Stevie calmed down a little when he was around Belle. She felt calm too, even if she was still a bit fearful the horse would trample her if she tripped in her stall or something.

Her shoulders ached from this morning. Waking up as early as she had to wake up to muck the stall and clean and feed the horse was not worth it. She didn't understand what Tim saw in it. "I still don't know why he got you," she murmured. She supposed she never would. Tim probably saw the horse on sale, knew that she'd be destroyed if no one got her, and swooped in to save the day, not thinking it through. Tyra slid off the fence, turning her head quickly at a car horn in the driveway. She grinned, running to the drive, waving. "Mrs. Taylor! Hey!" she laughed, throwing her arms around Tami when she climbed out of a rental car. It felt so good to see her.

"Oh look at you!" Tami exclaimed, hugging her tight, like she was going to up and float away. She pulled back, looked her up and down before laughing and giving her another hug. Gosh, it was so good to see her, Tyra thought, squeezing her tightly. She loved her mother to death, but Tami Taylor provided something that Angela just couldn't, Tyra thought, giving her another squeeze before she pulled away, laughing at the sight of Gracie, who was now six-years old and looking perturbed at the idea of being in Texas.

Until she saw Belle. "HORSE!" Gracie yelled, pointing. She immediately fell against Tami, squeezing her arm and begging. "Please, please, please Mommy can I please go see the horse? I love horses!"

"Well stop begging like you haven't had water in ages, you can go see the horse, but don't get yourself muddy…" Tami rolled her eyes as Gracie ran off to the paddock, Belle's tail swishy happily. She placed her hands on her hips, sighing. "That girl's obsession with horses will be the death of us and I don't know what I was thinking asking her to not get muddy." She kept her eyes on Gracie, still speaking. "So Tyra, you're living out here with Tim, huh?"

I knew that was going to be a main question. Julie mouthed 'sorry' and went up into the house, carrying a bag. Tyra knew she planned on spending the night before the wedding at the house, so she could prepare in peace and not have to see Matt, at her father's insistence. Tyra found it funny that Coach was a little superstitious in that regard. She turned, walking with Tami back up to the house. "Uh, yeah, I'm living with Tim. Strictly roommates."

"Where is he, I want to talk to him, this house is beautiful. It's so quaint."

Tyra stepped into the house, showing her around and finally settling out back with iced tea on the park bench, so Tami could watch Gracie. Julie was fretting about inside, checking on the flowers in the fridge and hanging her dress up. "It's something."

Tami plucked at the postcards. "Who travels? Not Tim."

"I guess you didn't hear that he's in Germany right now."

"What?! He's not here? How come Eric didn't know?"

"I guess Billy will tell him today." Tyra explained in so many words about the cards, Tim, and Lyla Garrity, which had Tami smiling and commenting about how strange relationships were. Tyra couldn't agree more, thinking of herself and Landry at the moment. She dug her toe into the porch, hearing Tami's question about what she planned on doing now that she was done with school. She shrugged. "I don't know."

Tami arched an eyebrow, her lips pursing. "I told you, one phone call and Braymore is yours. We have a great education program and social work…it just depends on what you want to do."

That's the kicker. "I wanted to be like you," Tyra chuckled, biting her lower lip. She shrugged, whispering. "But like…bigger level. Like politics, but…I didn't really like some of the political stuff I had to do. I'll campaign and stuff, but for my job? I don't know."

"I hear you have a job at the jail, just part-time, but you know…" Tami shrugged, her voice soft. Counselor voice. "Prison counseling may not be as immediately rewarding as working with kids or teens, but it's still a rewarding and difficult career. Advancement opportunities and money may never be there, but…it just depends what you want out of a job."

No one had mentioned that to her. Tyra looked out at Belle, who Gracie was playing with, leaning on the paddock and holding her hand out with blades of grass. Belle was really good with the kids. Absolutely hated her, but she was good with the kids. Of course Belle was in love with Tim. "I don't want money or anything, I just want to be able to help people like you helped me." That was the gist. It was easier to say with Tami beside her.

"Well." Tami patted her arm, lifting her glass of iced tea up, sipping thoughtfully. She swallowed and smiled. "That could be a lot of things. You want to travel the world like Lyla Garrity?"

"Not really," she laughed. She shook her head. "No, I just…I kind of like working at the prison. It's really hard, I mean…it's been like a week and a half, but so far I like it. I had my first time with the prisoners yesterday, that was interesting." She'd almost put one of the guys through a wall, but she'd managed to shut him up, which was the point.

Tami grinned. "Well you still have awhile until the applications return from the grad schools. Would you go back to school?"

"Yeah. I would. I like school and I think even if I want to be a counselor in jail I still need a Master's."

"I concur."

It's nice talking with you Mrs. Taylor. You don't treat me like I'm selfish or bitter. She couldn't let go of those statements, even though she knew Mindy and Julie didn't mean to say them to hurt her. It was just how they thought. It was kind of true. She was just trying to avoid being like that, so they didn't say it again. She propped her chin on her hands, her elbows on her knees, leaning forward. "Mrs. Taylor, do you think I'm being entitled?"

Tami smiled, shaking her head. "No, I don't. I think you've worked hard and you deserve something good and being forced to wait is…frustrating for you."

Not that she'd tell anyone else, but Mrs. Taylor was different. Tyra closed her eyes, whispering, so Tami had to lean forward. It was something she'd been thinking of the past couple of weeks here. Why she was acting the way she was, why she cared so damn much about Tim's life… "I'm kind of scared."

There, I said it. I admitted it. I'm scared. I'm terrified. Petrified. It's easier to cope with Tim's problems, with painting his house and with caring about what he did with his life. She leaned back, glancing at Tami, her brow wrinkled, whispering again. "I'm kind of scared of it."

"As well most would be," Tami replied. She kept her voice even; one thing Tyra loved was that it never felt like she was being lectured when Mrs. Taylor spoke with her. It felt like an old friend, just sharing wisdom. Never an adult. It was when Tami expressed her disappointment, that's when Tyra felt like a small child and Mrs. Taylor the adult. She reached her hand over, patting Tyra's arm. "You have more reason than most to be scared Tyra. You're the first person in your family to graduate college. The first person to go about getting a meaningful job and career. The first person to leave Dillon. You have every right to be scared and…"

She smiled again, cocking her head. "Julie made a comment about you caring a lot about Tim's life and…his house and everything. Did you know that we sometimes focus on the mundane, silly little things when we feel out of control on something greater? It's coping. You can control Tim's life, you can care about all that's going on with him, because you can't control whether the grad schools will say yes or whether you will get a job."

That made sense, Tyra guessed. "So you're saying that I'm a control freak?"

"I'm not saying anything, I'm saying that you're trying to control things because you feel out of control elsewhere. You're scared of what's beyond UT and what's beyond Dillon and you didn't prepare." Tami turned around a little more, so that she was almost off the bench, her eyes focused entirely on Tyra. A lock of red hair fell over her forehead, but she didn't make a move to brush it aside. "Tyra you have every reason to be scared, every reason to feel out of control, but don't let it consume you, because you can have all that you deserve. All that you want. It's just going to take some time."

Tim I don't want to wait for, Tyra thought, nodding. She glanced out at the horizon. "I just don't want to get stuck here. Like I'm at a rest stop and my car breaks down and I can never leave."

"Good metaphor, but your car will get fixed. It just might take some time to get the parts."

Yeah. Tyra smiled, her brow wrinkling a little, gazing sideways at Tami. She chuckled. "You could probably make a million dollars if you charged me for all the advice."

"I only charge other people, for you its free," Tami teased.

The back door opened, Julie stepping out, holding onto two big bows. "I can't decide which one I like more and I hate that I am becoming one of those brides, it doesn't matter, it's just a party, but help!" She pushed them forward. "Which one?"

Tami tapped one, which had Julie agreeing on the other. "Sweetie you'll remember this day in twenty years, not because of the bow size, but because you married the man you love," she advised.

"I suppose," Julie sighed, her shoulders falling. She glanced at Gracie, who was now in the paddock with Belle, petting her nose. "Mom, Gracie's getting dirty."

"Don't tattle on your sister. Gracie! Out of the dirt please!"

Tyra smiled, leaning back on the bench and sipping her tea. She was glad for this weekend. It was going to be really great, everyone back in Dillon, and her best friend getting married. She looked up when Tami went to get Gracie and Julie sank down beside her. "You want a drink?" she asked.

"Tyra it's like noon."

"Never too early."

"You've been living with Tim too long." Julie smiled, like the cat that ate the canary. "So I heard that you and Landry are hanging out a lot."

"We get dinner," Tyra admitted. She shrugged a shoulder, shaking her head at Julie. "We're friends, Julie. Just friends. Like me and Tim."

"You and Tim fight like brother and sister. You and Landry are probably never going to see each other again except when you come to see Matt and I at the same time, which I can ensure doesn't happen." Julie leaned her shoulder in, grinning. "You should hook up with him."

Tyra's eyes widened. Excuse me! "What?"

"You're the maid of honor and he's the best man, it's not like there isn't precedent."

"Oh come on." The idea was kind of…she shook it out of her head, chastising Julie. "It's Landry. I broke his heart and I still feel terrible about how I did it, but I don't regret it. It had to end."

"You hooked up with Tim."

"Because he was broken and damaged and needed to get laid and I felt guilty after that too."

"You realize that you've already been a prison counselor, with Tim. I just realized that." Julie smiled, jumping a little in her seat, the bows rustling in her hands. She grinned. "Well, tonight we're all going to dinner. It's kind of like the rehearsal dinner, but not. Talk to him after dinner."

I'm not going to do that, Tyra thought, getting up and going to the stall to get the saddle out and have Gracie ride the horse, while Julie disappeared back inside to finish finalizing the wedding plans.


	14. Following Precedent

_**Chapter 14: Following Precedent**_

"I think I'm a teensy bit drunk," Tyra mumbled, twirling around outside of the restaurant. She leaned on Landry's shoulder, smiling up at him. "You're not drunk."

"And neither are you."

"Then why I do I feel so weird?"

"You ate like a million cupcakes at dessert, you're probably on a sugar high." Landry grabbed her before she walked off to the wrong car. He smiled a little, steadying her on her feet. "I also think you haven't been sleeping well."

Got me there, I haven't been sleeping well. Now I'm exhausted, had a lot to drink on an empty stomach, way too many cupcakes, and she had only picked at her dinner. It was very pleasant, Julie and Matt took everyone out to Marcello's to celebrate the wedding as a family and of course, her and Landry tagged along. There was one day left and she had to help Julie with tying the ribbons around the house, sticking around while the florist and the caterers did setup, and just pray it didn't rain unexpectedly because Julie had chanced not renting a tent.

It'll totally rain, Tyra thought, waving goodbye to the Taylors and Matt, who were driving Grandma Lorraine and Shelby back home before spending the evening as a family. She flounced to the car, Landry climbing in the driver's side. "Where to?" he asked, turning the ignition over.

"Take me back home."

"Tim's?"

"More like mine. I'm redecorating."

"There probably wasn't much to decorate in the first place." You would be right on that count, Tyra thought, leaning against the window. She stared out at the night, tapping her fingernails lightly against it. She and Julie had plans to get pedicures and manicures tomorrow. Julie insisted on doing her own hair and makeup for the wedding.

She glanced sideways at Landry, who was driving in silence. There wasn't even the radio to fill the void. She cleared her throat loudly. "So what are you and Matt doing tomorrow?"

"Guy stuff." Yeah, that answered a lot, she thought, rolling her eyes. Landry shrugged. "Hang out. Whatever." He glanced sideways, his voice dropping. "You seem sad, why?"

"I'm not sad." Maybe I'm sad. Tyra shook her head, whispering. "I'm not pitying myself, before you think I am, but…Matt and Julie found each other, they're going to spend the rest of their lives together and…and I have my question mark of a future." She smiled a little. I'm not pitying myself, I'm just…I'm marveling at the differences. I don't want a guy. I don't want to get married. I just find it curious at how everyone's paths are difference.

Landry said nothing, driving back to Tim's house in silence. He frowned, pulling into the driveway. "Is he ever planning on coming home?"

"Billy said that he'd be home in a couple weeks." Tyra climbed out of the car, gesturing towards the house. It wasn't that late. The kid Tim paid sometimes to take care of Belle, Ethan, had already been by to feed Belle, because she could see the barn door was shut, with Belle happily ensconced inside her stall for the evening. She glanced at Landry, who was leaning on the open door of the car, but hadn't turned it off yet.

Tyra wasn't sure she wanted him to leave just yet. She wanted to talk to someone; she didn't want to go to sleep right away. She shoved her hands into her pockets, rocking on her heels. She swallowed hard. "You want a drink?"

Landry glanced at his car, waiting a moment before he shrugged. "Why not," he whispered, turning it off and following her to the house. Tyra closed the door behind him and locked it, just in case. "Why do you lock the door? There's no one around."

"I don't know. Maybe because there's no one around and if someone tries to kill me I'll be dead in this house until Tim comes back."

"I really can't believe he's been gone this long."

"Almost four weeks." It was practically unimaginable that the country of Germany hadn't fallen off the map. Billy said a couple weeks. Could be one, could be two, and could be a month, knowing Tim's penchant to just do what he felt. All what Billy told her was more than Tim told her, since he hadn't said a word to her beyond that he'd arrived and was with Lyla. He'd talk to her later. Four weeks ago. Tyra reached into a cupboard above the fridge, taking out a bottle of tequila. She swished it around. "Fancy something exotic?"

"Just one," Landry warned, as she poured the golden liquid into two Landing Strip shot glasses. He shook his head, holding it up. "I'm still driving tonight."

"I'm sure you'll be fine." She threw back the shot, smiling as he coughed on his. Yeah, he was never much of a drinker. Especially the hard stuff. She poured them each another shot. "So." She lifted the glass up, clinking it to his. "Is there anyone out there you have your eye on? You said you broke up with someone." We can do this, right? She seemed unsure, given that he'd just shot her a warning look. Friends, right, she wanted to confirm. That's what friends did; they talked about…well about whatever they wanted to talk about. She sipped her shot this time, watching him over the rim of the glass.

He shrugged, pouring another shot. He shifted his weight on his feet. "Yeah, well, she was…" he sighed, lifting the glass again. "She was nice, but we both decided it wasn't working out."

"How did you meet?"

"First year at Rice. She was in my music theory class." He quirked his lip. "She played the drums."

"Hot."

"I thought so at the time, but….it was fun, until…it wasn't." He finished the shot, swallowing hard and making a face, pressing on his chest. "Ouch."

"Doing shots is a talent, one I've unfortunately perfected. By the way, this tequila is crap, I know Tim has some good stuff…he always keeps good…aha!" She rose on her toes, reaching into the back of the cupboard, taking out a bottle of Jack Daniels. She spun around, modeling it off like she was Vanna White. "Come on, let's go outside."

They took their liquor outside, sitting on the park bench she'd dumpster-dived for. She poured them the Jack Daniels into the shot glasses, even though she thought Tim might actually have tumblers inside for this sort of thing. She clinked hers against Landry's again. "Hopefully this goes down easier," he mumbled, knocking it back, just to cough and make another face. "Blech, nevermind."

Tyra sipped the next, feeling really loose and liquid. She stretched out on the bench, sighing and kicking off her shoes. The chunky sandals fell away and she lifted her feet, folding them beneath her, leaning forward and smiling at Landry. "So this girl," she said, unable to let it go. She smiled. "A drummer, huh?"

"Yup. So what about you? Any guys other than Tim Riggins manage to tie down Tyra Collette?" Landry smiled, leaving his glass still full in his fingertips. He narrowed his eyes. "Or was I the only one that snagged you that long?"

"Please," she snorted. She reached to take a pin out of her hair, tossing it down to land next to her sandals. "No one's managed to tie me down. I don't want them to. I'm Tyra Collette, I can rule the world."

"I don't doubt that."

They sat in silence, both of them thinking. She swished the liquid in her glass, sipping at it. It was warm on her throat. She sighed. "To be honest Landry, you're kind of right." She glanced sideways, meeting his eyes, shrugging again. It was true, so she might as well say it. "I mean…there's really been no one as serious in my life as you. Not even in college…I…I dated a guy longer than you and Tim combined and I just…got rid of him when he served his purpose." He was a distraction for her when she wasn't studying or working her internships…that's what guys were for her after all.

It was wrong of her, but that's unfortunately how she saw things. She set the glass down on the porch, propping her hand up on her head, watching him for a moment. She sighed, whispering. "There's been no one since I broke up with the guy. Heath, his name was Heath."

"Like Heath Bar?"

"Yes," she giggled. She bit her lower lip. "My mother would have loved him. He came from money, he was attractive, but…but I liked him because he gave up his family's money, he drove a crappy car, which I ended up buying from him and it's still sitting broken down in the driveway…and if I wanted to end up with him I could have." But she'd done the same thing she'd done with Tim and with Landry, she'd chosen herself. She'd decided she didn't want to have any connections and she didn't want to be someone else's distraction, so she dumped him, finished school, and it had been about eight months or so now.

And she thought she was happy about it. Landry set his glass down beside hers, leaning him his knees. "You know Tyra, you're a nice girl, but…you're too much for guys."

"Really?"

"I should put out a warning. Don't go after this one, she's too much to handle." He looked over his shoulder, smiling a little. He shrugged. "I'm not angry with you, I just…wish you'd handled it differently…but…that's in the past now."

I wish I had too. I really do. She shook her head. "No regrets, Landry. It's not worth living with them."

"That something you learned from Tim?"

"Yes." It worked. She saw it working with him. He had a lot he could regret, but he chose not to let it bother him, he chose not to regret. He just lived. He was happier for it. So she tried and lo and behold, it worked. Landry leaned back, turning his face towards hers. She peered down at him, watching the light from inside play across his face. He wasn't handsome; he just…she always imagined it was his personality that made him attractive. Right now though, she wondered why he didn't have 100 women chasing after him. Guess they just didn't know what they were missing. She leaned in, catching herself. No, that wouldn't be good. She cleared her throat, whispering. "So Matt and Julie are getting married. I remembered when I first became friends with her and they were dating. They were so cute."

"I remember trying to give him dating advice. I guess it worked."

"No," she laughed, her head resting against his. He smiled sideways, knowing that wasn't true. "No I don't think it was your advice."

"Hey, I can dream." He sighed, scanning the land. It was pitch black, with just a slight sheen of silver light bouncing off the ground from a sliver of moon visible above their heads. He reached down, his knuckles brushing over her hand. She turned it, watching his fingertips play over the lines of her palm. It suddenly began to sweat. Her heart started beating. What are we doing, she wondered, turning her face towards him again. She pressed her lips to his, finally just doing what she'd been thinking about for the last few minutes. He didn't move, so she pushed her lips against his harder, finally getting him to return the kiss.

In an instant she was off the bench, pulling him by his hands into the house, both of them kissing each other like their lives depended on it, stumbling through the kitchen and up the stairs. She tugged off her cardigan, while Landry fought with his shoes. "You know," he said, laughing. "This really isn't what I had in mind." She giggled, grabbing his face, pulling him entirely into the bedroom. He giggled, just as stupid as she was in the moment. "In fact, I'm pretty…pretty sure we shouldn't be doing this."

"Well that's what makes it fun," Tyra said, her arms going around his neck, kissing him again. She felt good. For the first time in a long time, she felt really good. She knew tomorrow morning she'd probably feel like total crap, but right now she wanted to do this.

Landry smiled against her lips, shaking his head, kissing her harder. He broke the kiss a second later, turning her around and pushing her back onto the bed. Her eyes widened and she scrambled to sit up. He smiled. "I'm not the same dumb kid Tyra. This is just one night."

I like this confident Landry, she thought, feeling her blood course hot through her veins. She felt flushed. She reached for him, pulling him on top of her, smiling again. "Just one night." I'm not some dumb girl either. I have no illusions of what this is or what will happen. I'm not an idiot, she felt like saying, but she didn't, reaching for the comforter to throw it over them against the chill coming in from her open window.


	15. Surviving the Morning After

**A/N:**Thanks for the reviews :) I'm trying to add some more to the fic now, to flesh it out just a bit more other than the semi-reunion fic it turned out becoming. Enjoy!

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_**Chapter 15: Surviving the Morning After**_

Tyra's eyes sprang open, staring at her ceiling. She clutched her comforter to her chest, the wheels and cogs in her mind beginning to turn. She didn't look around, because she knew what had happened. How could I have been so stupid, she thought at first, until…she frowned. The bed felt empty. She sat up instantly, still holding the comforter, cocking her head at Landry, who was tying his tennis shoes, seated fully dressed in the chair beside her armoire. She pursed her lips. "Hello."

He looked up, smiling quickly. "Hey."

"Um…Ah!" Tyra flipped backwards, surprised at the sound of her alarm clock blaring. She tripped on the comforter, crashing back onto the floor, cursing and mumbling, sticking her head above the bed, flashing a smile at his amused look. So did this all really happen last night…okay…well…she glanced at Landry again. He was still looking at her, slightly confused, but still not…overtly angry or regretful. "So, um, good night, yeah?" She stood again, slipping on the sheet and falling flat on her face. This is not my finest hour. She rolled onto her back, looking up as he peered down at her, his hands on his hips. She smiled, snorting and laughing at the absurdity. "Wow, so last night…you and me…again." I seem to have this thing with my ex-boyfriends, she thought, shaking her head. I make sure to sleep with at least one of them when I'm back in town.

"Yeah, again." Landry lifted an eyebrow. "You have some new moves. Or maybe you just didn't do them with me."

"New moves? I hardly recognized you."

"I went to college. It's the whole geek thing, girls really dig it."

No, it's the whole you're a sweet guy thing, that's what girls dig. She sat up, reaching to take his hand, squeezing it. At least, the girls who recognize it and don't take advantage of it. Like me. She smiled again, whispering. "I did have fun." It was a nice departure from going to sleep alone the last…year. Wow, it really had been a year, hadn't it? She didn't realize.

"Yeah." Landry glanced down at their hands, squeezing in return. He smiled quickly. "We should probably get going. I have to find Matt…"

"And I have to go get Julie."

He dropped a really quick kiss to her forehead, darting away and closing the door behind him, leaving her alone in the bedroom. Tyra stood at the window, looking down as he walked from the porch to his car. He didn't look up at her or really…really notice anything else other than leaving. He totally regretted this, she thought, sighing. She let the curtains flick shut, dropping the comforter from around her and snatching her things, walking into Tim's room to shower.

When she finished, she called Julie, saying she'd meet her, Mrs. Taylor, and Gracie at the diner for breakfast. She left, going downstairs and into Belle's stall, feeding her and giving her the pills she needed for her joints. Belle chomped on the apple that Tyra used to hide the pills, her big dark eyes not wavering from her own. "What?" she asked, holding her arms out to the horse. "I slept with him, okay? It's just friends. I'm not marrying the guy. I can sleep with people and have it not mean anything." She could. She did. This just… this was Landry. She sighed, closing her eyes. "I know, it was stupid."

Her phone rang in her back pocket. Reaching for it, she answered, not bothering to look and see who it was. "Hello?"

"Is my horse alive?"

"Tim!"

"Is my horse alive?" he repeated, not even bothering with pleasantries. He pushed forward. "I'm coming home in a week, so stop making yourself comfortable. I have some news too."

Ah yes, the "news" that Billy and Mindy have alluded towards. Even Buddy seemed to be walking around in a bit of a funk, Angela hadn't told her why he was all annoyed lately. Tyra rubbed Belle's neck, listening to him. She frowned. "News? What law did you break in Germany?"

"No laws, by the way, the beer there is…"

"I don't care about beer, what's your news?" Her stomach did a couple of flips. Call it women's intuition or something, but she knew what he was going to say almost before he did.

He spoke, suddenly very shy. "Um, so…so I…so Garrity and…" Tim sighed hard. "She's better now, she…she got shot and she broke her leg and…well I didn't want to not say anything, so…I…"

I can't take it. She pinched at her nose, listening to him stumble for a moment. Words were very precious to Tim, he didn't use them often and when he did, they mattered, so this stumbling was very out of character. She'd had enough. "Spit it out!" Tyra exclaimed.

So Tim Riggins spit it out and she knew the second he spoke what he was going to say, her stomach warming and flipping, her heart leaping for him. "I married Garrity. We're married. I got married. I'm married."

Son of a bitch, you did it. She laughed, her forehead falling against Belle's neck. The horse shifted, turning her head and nipping at Tyra. Her eyes closed tight. Wow. "Oh my God," she mumbled, her fingers curling into Belle's mane. I don't even know what to say to that. She smiled, stepping back, realizing that she was smiling so wide her cheeks hurt. "You got married? Seriously? Is there at least a picture of this happy event for proof?"

"I have pictures. I'll send you one. You know and Billy knows, which means Mindy knows, but none of you can tell anyone. I don't want to ruin Seven and Jules's day."

Of course you don't. "So when did this happy day occur?" she asked.

She could hear him beaming from wherever he was in Europe. "Lyla had to go in for surgery and I just…well she didn't want…okay, so don't tell anyone this…"

"Crap Tim, Lyla proposed to you?"

"Well she said we should do it, so I proposed, but it was her idea, so um, is Landry back in town now for the wedding?"

"Don't change the subject!" But it was too late, he'd already gotten off the topic of his wedding, about which she had a zillion questions. She closed her eyes, listening to him for a moment, asking about Landry and the wedding. When was it, was Coach there, what did Coach think of his house, that sort of thing. She finally managed to get a word into suddenly chatty Timmy. "Coach is here, he hasn't seen your house yet, and the wedding is tomorrow. By the way, I have to go, Julie and I have plans today and tonight's the football game and then it's the wedding tomorrow evening."

Tim cut in before she could say she was going to hang up on him now. "I'll send you a picture. Tell them all congratulations." He paused. His throat cleared. "So did you and Landry…"

"I'm hanging up now!" Tyra hung up, wondering how he knew already. He could probably sense it. Like a dog or something. The phone buzzed with a text. She reached back into her pocket and took it out, opening up the photo. Her smile softened, her heart filling. Wow. Tim was sitting next to Lyla, who was lying in bed, holding a small bouquet of flowers, looking incredibly happy and beautiful for someone who had tubes and wires attached to her body and a leg that was propped up in a boot of some sort. She was holding up her left hand, which sparkled and Tim was grinning, holding up his hand too.

She shot him back a text asking where he was now. Tim responded with "France."

"Don't get kicked out," she simply said. She didn't get a response. He probably was wondering what she meant by that. Even she didn't know. He'd been on his best behavior for the last two years. She said goodbye to Belle, which she had to admit, she was beginning to like, and went up to the house, getting her keys and bag. She met Julie and Mrs. Taylor outside the diner, with Gracie sitting on a bench nearby, flicking through a book. "Is she in trouble?" she asked, wondering if the kid was now in time out or something.

"No, she just didn't want to stand," Tami said, clapping her hands. "Are we all here? Good, I'll go get a table. Gracie!"

Tyra stood outside the door, reaching to hold it open for Julie, who grabbed her arm, dragging her away. "Ow! What are you doing?"

"You had sex."

Oh my God! Tyra's eyes widened. She shook her head, hissing. "No I didn't!" she lied. She tried to keep her voice down. They were in public, what was Julie thinking? "I didn't," she insisted. I'm a terrible liar. Julie knew, her eyes narrowing and arms crossing over her chest. She sighed, admitting defeat a moment later, mumbling. "Okay fine, I did."

"Well Tim's in France, apparently, Mom found out from Dad yesterday. So that leaves some new guy or…" Julie's eyes widened. She squealed, pushing on Tyra's shoulders. "You and Landry! Seriously?"

"Julie, we were drinking a little bit, we were talking about relationships…he's the best man," she supplied, weak. She sighed, closing her eyes. This was terribly embarrassing, even if it was her best friend. She saw the look dawning in Julie's eye, pointing at her and shaking her head before Julie even had a chance to speak. "No, we are not doing anything. He's going back to school, I am staying here, and that's it. We have two days; we can do what we want in two days. That's it." Tyra didn't wait for a response, going into the diner and sitting across from Tami and Gracie in a booth near the back. She grabbed a menu. "So where do I start?" she murmured.

Tami sipped her coffee. "How about Tim getting married?"

"Ah…" Tyra glanced over the top of the menu. "How do you know that?"

"Because you didn't freak out just now and because Eric found out from Buddy who couldn't help but spill the news." She smiled, shrugging a shoulder. "I think it's lovely. They married before she went in for a dangerous surgery. Not like it was legal or anything, Buddy said that they just exchanged the vows with a chaplain, but it's sweet."

Gracie slurped her milk. "Who got married Mommy?"

"You don't know him sweetie, he knew you as a baby."

"I'm not a baby."

Tami arched an eyebrow, looking down at a smiling Gracie. "No one said you were, drink your milk like a normal person and don't slurp and what in the world child? Elbows off the table and feet on the floor and not under your butt."

Gracie sighed, moving about so she was sitting normally and not on her feet, drinking her milk normally. She smiled at Julie. "I'm flower girl."

"You are flower girl," Julie agreed. She set the menu down, glancing at Tyra. She cleared her throat. "So Mom, what do you think about this whole Tim and Lyla thing? Funny how ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriends can get back together when something big happens. Something like…well Lyla got shot up in Africa, but you know, big events…like weddings." She smiled a little, taking the cup of coffee the waitress poured for her.

I'm going to kill you. Tyra didn't want to talk about this, so she changed the subject to Tami's job at Braymore, which got her a long discussion on higher education administration. She found it interesting, but it definitely wasn't something she could see herself doing. When Tami was done talking about Braymore, they began to discuss the wedding plans, which got Julie's mind off of her and Landry, thank God. They finished breakfast, leaving to go get their manicures and pedicures. She was sitting in the chair, her hands soaking and feet being massaged, when Julie sprang it on her again. "Not that I care that you're hooking up with your ex at my wedding, but what are you going to do with Landry now?" Julie asked.

Great. Tyra opened her eyes, staring up at the ceiling, mimicking her position from earlier this morning. She sighed, her chest falling. I know what I'm going to do. You're not going to like it, but Landry was pretty clear last night and this morning too. "It's just friendship, Julie," she said. She glanced sideways. Julie was boring holes into her skull. "Look, I hooked up with him, okay? Not all of us are going to end up with our high school exes. You and Matt are an anomaly."

"We went through a lot of crap though too Tyra."

"And you came out on the great end of it, okay? I don't love Landry like you love Matt." That was the long and short of it. Last night was fun. It was really great. It was also just a short-term thing that wasn't going to go beyond this weekend. Much like how she knew what it was like going into her fling with Tim a couple years ago. We're just saying goodbye, she thought, but didn't say it out loud.

Julie shook her head, whispering. "I just don't want him to be hurt Tyra. Or you. You're my friends."

"No one is getting hurt, we're adults." Sort of. Tyra said nothing, clearing her throat after a moment. "So you're getting married tomorrow, are you changing your name?"

"No."

"Well that was quick."

They spent the rest of the morning in the nail salon, leaving and going to do last minute things. At the house she unraveled ribbon around the banister with Gracie helping her out, while Mrs. Taylor instructed the rental guys with the chairs and tables and the arbor beneath the sycamore tree. The day wore on, until they found themselves at the football game, Julie trying not to bite her nails, the nerves beginning to show as she sat between her mother and father on one of the benches, Tyra one up and sitting beside Landry. He leaned in, whispering to her. "I can't concentrate."

"It's football, Landry, you played football."

"I think…" He glanced at her, smiling. "We should get out of here."

She smiled, pursing her lips. "I don't think so."

"We have until Sunday."

"Why Sunday?"

"I'm leaving Sunday."

She stood up, leaning down to hug and kiss everyone goodbye, promising she'd see them tomorrow morning. In Julie's case, she said she'd see her that evening, since Juliet was spending the night so she could wake up bright and early and start getting ready, even if the wedding didn't start until five. Tyra left the game, glancing at Landry as they walked through the parking lot towards their respective cars. She stopped outside her truck, smiling at him. "Sunday, huh?"

"Sunday."

"That's only one more day." She shrugged, climbing up into her truck, grinning at him. "I can work with one day."

Landry chuckled, tossing his keys in the air and going to his car. She drove away, meeting him outside on the porch, grabbing his face and tugging him into the house. She had one day left with him, so she intended to make the most of it, before he was gone for good.


	16. Preparing for a Wedding

_**Chapter 16: Preparing for a Wedding**_

"I'll see you in a few hours," Landry said, shoving his feet back into his tennis shoes. Tyra nodded, wiping at her bags underneath her eyes. She was up really late last night; probably not the best thing, since she was sure she was going to be up all night tonight too.

She stepped out of the bedroom, glancing at Tim's closed door. Julie must have just wandered herself on up there instead of staying in the guest room downstairs with the cot she'd gone and bought. Hell, if she were Julie she'd probably have done that too. She walked Landry downstairs, going out onto the porch. "I'll see you," she said, yawning behind her hand.

"Later." Landry jogged to his car, waving and climbing into his car, driving away.

Tyra waited a moment, before she went back into the house, going to start coffee. She was pouring herself a cup when she swore she heard the front door close. Quietly, but it still closed. She glanced out the window of the door beside the laundry room, seeing Matt sneaking into his mother's car, which she just now noticed was parked on the other side of Tim's truck. "Sneaky little devil," she murmured, amused.

Well maybe he closed his eyes when he woke up this morning. Not supposed to see the bride and all that. Tyra sipped her cup, lowering it to the counter when Julie stumbled in, her hair sticking up in all places, wearing one of Matt's t-shirts and pair of pink shorts. "Good morning," she drawled.

"Morning," Julie grunted. Julie was a morning person, so this was strange. Or not. She reached for a cup from the cupboard, shuffling to the coffee pot. Once she had a few hits of caffeine, she frowned. "Did I hear Landry sneaking out this morning?"

"Did I see Matt driving away a few minutes ago?"

They both squared off, staring at each other over their respective cups of coffee. "Touché," Julie finally stated, breaking the silence. She set the cup down, her eyes widening. "Oh my God."

"What?" Please tell me we didn't forget anything. Tyra began pointing around the kitchen. "The cake is in the fridge, the chairs are set up, the weather looks like it's going to hold, the dresses are steaming in Tim's bathroom…the florist will bring the flowers, the food comes at noon…what am I missing?"

"Nothing, I don't think, but…I'm getting married!"

Oh yeah, that's right. Tyra grinned. "You're getting married!"

"I'm getting married! I swore I wasn't going to do this, but holy crap." Julie fanned herself with her left hand, laughing and grinning. "I can't believe this. I feel silly."

"Don't feel silly. You found the guy you love, most women kill for that crap." Tyra hugged her friend, closing her eyes and breathing deep. She was so happy for her and Matt. They were going to have a great life. She let go, stepping away as Julie began to ask about when her other was supposed to arrive.

Which was just as she spoke, because Tami walked into the kitchen from the side door, calling and waving, Gracie following behind her holding onto a giant makeup box. "It's here!" Tami cried, hugging Julie tight. "Oh my baby is getting married!"

"I told you no crying."

"Hush, I can cry all I want."

Tyra stepped out of the kitchen to give them space, going upstairs and changing into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She slipped into Tim's bathroom, removing the dresses from their bags and hanging them up, reaching to turn the hot water on full blast to steam them out. She let that run, going back downstairs, her phone in her hand, beginning to make necessary calls while Julie guzzled coffee and dialed Matt, to make sure he had his suit and the rings.

It's time for a wedding, Tyra thought with a smile, setting her phone down. There was still a ton of stuff to do, but it would all work out. She grinned, watching Julie giggle on the phone with Matt, despite the fact that they'd just seen each other.

She felt great, truly great, for the first time in months. "This is going to be a great day," Tyra mumbled, calling Mindy to get Stevie over here soon so he could get his suit and go over his ringbearer duties. She set the phone down, sighing. It buzzed; another text. She opened up a photo, staring at a picture of Tim and Lyla in front of the Eiffel Tower, Lyla hopped on Tim's back like a monkey. The following text was "Staying an extra two weeks. She's kidnapped me."

Unbelievable. In a great way. Tyra felt…she smiled. She was doing her thing. She would be fine. So would Tim. It was Matt and Julie's wedding day. She wouldn't dwell on the status of her life. She closed the phone and looked up, smiling at Julie, who just hung up her phone and standing against the counter, looking numb. Tyra grinned. It was a good day. After a lot of crap, now it seemed like today it was all worth it.

"What?" Julie asked, looking over cup of coffee. She smiled, reaching to touch her hair subconsciously. "What, is it my face? Is it obvious I was drinking? It's not puffy is it?"

"No," Tyra said, smiling wide. "No it's not puffy. It's just…it's just a really good day."

Tami emerged, clapping her hands. "Okay girls, Gracie is getting antsy. It's time for hair and makeup, let's go!"

Tyra set down her coffee. When Mrs. T said to do something, you did it. She wasn't going to think of Landry right now. Too busy marrying off her best friend she thought with a grin, jogging upstairs to her bedroom to grab her makeup case.


	17. Cleaning Up

**A/N:** This chapter should make up for the shortness of last chapter; I've added some more, this was to serve as the final chapter and then an epilogue following it, but now there's probably about five chapters total before the fic is complete. Enjoy! :)

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**_Chapter 17: Cleaning Up_**

I think I have cried buckets of tears today, Tyra thought, lying back on the couch, her eyes closing. She felt like they were crinkling closed. She was exhausted. Her feet hurt, she ate too much cake, and her stomach hurt from laughing so much. Although with her face, which seemed frozen in a smile for much of the day. It had been such a great day; Landry played the guitar during the ceremony and for the first dances, until the band that Julie hired took over for the rest. There was only about 50 people tops, which was just enough, Tyra thought. It was still incredibly intimate. She felt like she'd been flying for most of the afternoon, dancing with just about everyone, including Landry for much of the night. It was about two in the morning, the caterer had packed up hours ago, but now the entire house still had to be cleaned up. "I need to hire someone," she mumbled, her eyes closed.

"Or Tim could just move," Landry said, holding a garbage bag in one hand and a paper plate in the other. He tossed it into the bag, dropping it on the ground and wandering over to sit beside her, his head pillowing on the cushions. He pointed towards the kitchen. "Billy ran away, he was supposed to help."

Damnit. Mindy had escaped with the kids. Angela was back at the house helping her. Buddy went with Coach Taylor, both of them lamenting the marriages of their daughters to football players, both of whom they approved but acted tough like they didn't. Tami took a sleeping Gracie back to the Saracen house, with Grandma and Shelby. Grandma could party, Tyra remembered, yawning. She sat back up, looking down at her feet, now in flip-flops. She had to change out of the dress. A dress she wouldn't wear again, unless…she frowned. "Can I convince Lyla Garrity to have an actual wedding ceremony and let me wear this bridesmaid dress?"

"Can you convince Lyla Garrity to ask you to be a bridesmaid if she did decide to have an actual wedding ceremony?"

Probably not. She closed her eyes, a thought popping into her mind. She covered her face with her hands, scrubbing. "They're going to move back here and I'm still going to live here." I have nowhere to go unless I get an apartment. I can't get an apartment. I can't go back and live with my mother. Maybe if I just move down to the bedroom on the first floor. I'll think about it when they come back.

Landry tapped his fingers on her hand. He glanced at her, his face impassive. He'd lost his tie and jacket, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and the collar undone. He'd worn Chucks; so had Matt. Julie thought it was funny. Geeky, she said. He sighed, lifting his face up to the ceiling. "I like these rafters," he said. "But I can't see Tim climbing around building stuff. Destroying stuff, but not really building stuff."

"He's changed. He's a hard worker."

"Because working at a strip joint is hard work. No pun intended."

"He's a hard worker," she repeated; Landry snorted. She shook her head; she didn't want to talk about Tim with Landry. Landry held one opinion of Tim and it was of the guy who once dated her while Landry pined for her in high school. They'd all changed. Tyra didn't want to get into the past. She crossed her arms over her chest. They had one night left. Until…just until. She shook her head at the mess in the living room. Outside was worse. "This place is a disaster. Tim should move."

"I think he won't like that."

He'll survive. This place will be cleaned up by the time he decided to return from his little month-long European excursion. So very non-Tim-like. Whatever he felt for Lyla must have been strong enough. She glanced at the window. "Belle seemed like she had fun." She'd saddled her up, walking Gracie and the boys around the back for a while, until they all got bored.

Landry nodded, getting up from the couch. "Yeah. She did." He turned around, looking down at her. "You want to help me with the porch?"

"Yeah, might as well." Tyra stood up, shuffling in flip-flops, helping him clean up the porch. She planned on leaving the kitchen as it was, but when she finished with the porch she felt a second surge of energy to just get it all done. So she did, cleaning and putting away leftovers and making herself notes on stuff to do tomorrow, to have the rental people pick up the chairs and everything. She finally finished around four in the morning. "I'm so tired," she yawned, walking up the stairs, Landry following her. She stopped outside her bedroom, gesturing to Tim's bathroom. "I'm going to clean up." Do what you gotta' do.

Several minutes later, she was happily curled up in bed in her pajamas, Landry stretched out beside her. He was still fully dressed in his suit. She looked up, whispering. "You don't have to stay." It might be better if you didn't.

"I'm leaving tomorrow morning," he said. She nodded. She glanced at the suitcases and boxes piled in the corner of the room. How much longer do I plan on staying here? Landry cleared his throat. "How much longer are you staying here Tyra?"

I don't know. She shook her head, whispering. "As long as I have to, I guess. I need to see about grad school."

"Do you even want that?" he asked. He continued, before she had a change to answer. "Because…because I know we've talked about this and I know you talked about it with Mrs. Taylor and Julie and probably everyone in Dillon, but…but what do you want Tyra? Like what do you really, really want, no thinking involved?"

What do I want? I don't know, was always her immediate answer. She closed her eyes. First thing that popped into her mind. "I want to help people."

"People? What kind of people?"

"Just…kids. People."

"Lyla Garrity helps people. She just got shot up in Africa for helping people. Is that what you want?"

No. I don't want that. I just…Tyra sighed, thinking of the prison. It was interesting work. Challenging work. She got to be tough, bad-ass Tyra. She frowned a little, whispering. "I like the jail thing right now."

"Good. Just so long as your answer wasn't get out of Dillon. That's no longer your problem. You just need to focus." Landry slumped down against the pillows, closing his eyes. "You want to help people, you should help me reband Crucifictorious."

She lightly swatted his elbow, her eyes closed, smiling. "No one wants that."

"I can dream."

"You want to be a physics teacher. You want to go back to the most hellish place on earth and work there. You couldn't pay me to go back to high school. It's why I didn't want to be a high school counselor like Mrs. Taylor. I wanted to be bigger."

"Prison is bigger."

I'll think about it, she sighed, her eyes closing again. She felt his arm curve around her waist. Her hand patted against his as she fell off to one of the first deep, dreamless sleeps she'd had since returning to Dillon.

* * *

Later that afternoon, she stood outside of Landry's car, her arms around his neck, just hugging him. It was time to say goodbye. It had been great, but…he was leaving now. Car was packed up, he'd said goodbye to his parents, and now he had to get to the airport. I don't want you to leave; it's been so comfortable these past couple of days. Matt, Julie, the Taylors, and Landry all back in her life. She closed her eyes, smoothing her hands over his back, whispering. "I'll miss you."

"Me too." Landry let go of her, his thumbs pressing into her forearms. He smiled. "You'll do fine Tyra. You'll be great. Prisoners will fear you. Like many did in high school."

She laughed, her hands falling from his, positioning on her hips. "I hope you do well. You'll be the best physics teacher ever." It was stupid, but she didn't know what to say right now. Tyra pushed her fingers through her hair, glancing at the car. Delaying the inevitable. "You should go."

"Yeah." Landry gave her another hug, whispering. "Goodbye Tyra."

Goodbye Landry. Tyra let go of him, taking a large step backwards, mouthing, "I'm sorry." He just smiled, lifting his fingers in a silent wave, climbing back into the car. She crossed her arms over her chest, watching him back out of the driveway, waving goodbye. She lifted her hand; her eyes on him until the car disappeared down the street, leaving her alone. Alone. Really alone now. The door had closed on her life with Tim. The door had now officially closed and locked on her life with Landry. Leaving her to her own devices. He'd given her all the advice he could; he'd helped her get into college and now…goodbye.

Tyra released a long sigh, glancing at Belle. She walked towards the paddock, reaching in to stroke at Belle's neck. The horse shifted her weight, moving closer for more neck rubs. "Pretty girl," she murmured. She wondered exactly what Tim was thinking to get Belle. She sighed. "He rescued you. Maybe he thought it was time to give back. Maybe he wanted someone to take care of while he was out here alone." He could have gotten a dog, she supposed, rather than a horse, but, he'd already said that he wasn't around enough for a dog. She went to the other side of the barn, where Tim kept all the tack locked up. She'd only practiced putting everything on Belle and letting the kids ride her, but she had so far avoided it. What could it hurt to just try for herself?

About twenty minutes later, Tyra learned it could hurt very much. She held the reins tight in her hand, ignoring Tim's rules that she had to hold them loosely and guide with her knees. It felt like she was doing the splitz and her ass was absolutely killing her from bouncing in the saddle. "I should have been paying more attention," she mumbled, from when Tim had tried to give her a couple of lessons. She leaned down, patting Belle's neck. "You're a good girl, you know that? Wow, look at this view."

Every single time she stopped to look, she swore the land changed. Trees moved around, the pond changed color, and now she could see the house from a different angle. I'll have to come back here for my breaks or vacations, she thought, shaking her head and finally breaking from the view, returning her attention to the horse. She liked being out here. Freeing, that's what Tim told her once. It was freeing. Well, now she understood. She needed to be free. To just think. Gap year, she thought, biting at her lip. She'd hold off on the jobs for now…she'd…she'd go to school and right now she'd savor everything.

Watch the boys; help Tim out when she could…work at the prison. She realized that she'd already kind of done her counseling thing. She'd counseled Skye. She'd helped Tim out. She'd see what the graduate schools said. Even if she wanted to do prison counseling she still would probably need a master's. Take charge; create her future for herself, Tami told her. So she would. The break was needed. For four years she'd been running. Now was time to stop and savor. "I'm savoring Belle," she said, looking down at the horse. The long black tail came flying back, smacking at her leg. Ow, that hurt, even through the denim. She sighed. "I don't know where I'm going to live when Tim returns, but I guess I'll figure that out when…"

Well, she sighed, she supposed whenever Tim decided to come back. She walked Belle around some more, the horse only trying to run off twice. This horse doesn't listen to me. It must be a Riggins, she thought, finally hopping off of her and walking her towards the barn. She cleaned her up and put her inside, leaving the barn and going up to the house. She leaned on the porch railing, looking out at everything. This had been a wild two months. Tim got married, what the hell? She and Landry…that was insane, but it had been nice to finally…to finally say goodbye, she supposed, when they hadn't gotten that before. Matt and Julie were finally married…it was all so crazy.

It was very empty. She picked up her car keys and her wallet. I'm going to go see the boys. Stevie was at some science thing today, but the twins would be with Mindy, since she wasn't working today. She left Tim's house, driving through Dillon, scanning the storefronts and people walking around. This place got bigger, she realized, suddenly. She'd been here two months and now she was finally seeing it. There were more stores, there were more restaurants…it was surreal. She shook her head, finally pulling up beside the old house, climbing out of the truck, walking up to the front door.

"Tyra!" Scotty yelled, laughing and seeing her through the open door. He pushed on the screen, making a face. He giggled. "Look!" He held up a new toy, lights flashing and spinning on it.

Well that's not going to give anyone a headache. Tyra grinned, opening the door and stepping into the house. "Wow, what'd you do to get that?"

"I'm perfect." His little toddler voice made it seem like he said I'm "purple." She knelt down to his height, inspecting the new toy while he showed her different features. Sammy surely had a new toy as well, which he confirmed a moment later, coming to see her holding his toy, which was…a Barbie doll.

Mindy looked over from the table. "I'm not going to push them to gender-specific toys, the magazine said so. It's not good for their psyches or something."

"You just didn't want to fight with him in the store."

"Or that. I'll burn the thing before Billy comes home."

Tyra straightened up, walking to the kitchen and across to the kitchen table, glancing at the laptop set out. She turned it towards her, frowning. "How to start a small business? Are you thinking of making a career change Mindy? Opening your own strip club or something? I mean, I personally think two strip clubs in the span of about ten square miles is more than enough, but…"

"Hush," Mindy said, giving her a glass of juice. She sipped her glass, putting it down beside the computer. She dropped a pair of cat's eye reading glasses onto her nose. "I'm doing research for Tim. He's making a deal with his boss, kind of like…contracted to a contractor. It's why he gets the fancy truck he can do whatever he wants with, because he bought it."

He bought that corporate truck? I'm seriously still out of the loop on so much. Tyra sat down next to her, watching Mindy work. She glanced at the living room, Scotty and Sammy seated in front of the television, Baby Einstein playing and their new toys battling it out for control of the universe. Or something similar to that, as she couldn't understand what Sammy was saying about their game.

She tapped her fingernails on the side of her glass, glancing at Mindy again. I've missed a lot, being away from here. She swallowed hard, feeling her throat constrict. "Hey Mindy," she murmured.

"Hmm?"

"If I go to California or…or New York or…somewhere else…I promise I'll come back."

Mindy lifted her eyes. She paused, her face impassive. After a second, she pushed the glasses up to her forehead, smiling and shaking her head, her voice quiet. "Tyra don't come back because you feel like you have to…"

"No I want…" Tyra closed her eyes. She knew what Mindy was getting at. She smiled, reaching to cover her sister's hand, whispering. "I want to come back. I've missed a lot…the boys and…I just want to be here. I've missed a lot."

"I know, I…I know, but…" Mindy pulled back, leaning her elbow on the table, her hand dropping to Tyra's knee. She frowned, her eyes wide on her sister's. "Tyra, you're going to go do something really big, okay? I know it doesn't seem like it right now, just sitting here waiting…you've never been patient."

Tyra chuckled, but said nothing, allowing her sister to continue. Mindy smiled, squeezing her hand. "But you're going to be okay and…and maybe it's good you came here for some perspective. It's not all about escaping Dillon, but you're just visiting for now. Don't think you're here forever and act like it. You're just taking a break before you start running like a madwoman doing all your great things." She grinned. "And besides, if you're going to be here for another few months, we have a wedding to plan."

Oh God, that's right, the wedding. Tyra closed her eyes, sighing. "Lyla Garrity will not allow us to plan her wedding."

"Oh I don't care what Miss Priss wants, she's got a party streak, and I've seen it."

"I doubt that."

"Don't judge, she and Tim have more in common than you think." She pointed to Tyra, lifting her eyebrows. "She's the only person I've ever seen who could drink as much as him and still seem semi-rational. Plus she's a hilarious drunk, if you've never seen it. She'll fit right in."

"I don't believe that at all."

"Well believe it." Mindy sobered up, reaching for her and framing her face with her hands and grinning. She paused, leaning in to hug her tightly. Her voice softened. "I love you Tyra. No matter where you go or what you do."

What was this about? I'm not leaving just yet. Tyra said nothing, her arms slowly lifting to return the hug. She rested her head against Mindy's. She let go, after a moment, not saying a word. Neither did Mindy. She released a breath, surprised at how shaky it seemed coming from between her pursed lips. I'm not going very far, if I go far at all. I…I'll come back, Tyra thought, glancing at the twins. She stood up, going to sit on the floor with them. She reached for one of their new toys, Scotty climbing up into her lap. "Daddy's mad," he announced.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Mindy came over, sitting down beside her, taking Sammy into her arms. "He's mad at Uncle Tim, not at us." She arched an eyebrow. "I'm mad at Billy now, he said that Tim told him he was getting married, but he didn't believe him, thought he was joking. I knew that idiot couldn't do anything without letting Billy know."

I was surprised at that too. Tyra was glad that the two brothers' relationship was back to relatively where it was before the whole jail thing. Even if it wasn't, she was sure Tim wouldn't tell her anyway. She tugged on Scotty's sock. "You want to be in a wedding?"

"Yeah!"

"Where's your new toy?"

"Dunno."

That was fast. She lifted Scotty up, carrying him outside, since it was a relatively nice day. Matt and Julie had been married a day. Coach and Mrs. Taylor were going back to Philly and Landry was headed back to Rice. It had been nice, to see everyone again. She hoisted Scotty up on her hip, leaning against the iron safety gate around the pool, which Billy had somehow managed to clean out and they'd filled for the summer. It needed to be closed down, now it was looking like algae was growing along the walls.

Mindy came out holding Sammy's hand. She nodded to the pool. "Tim was supposed to help, but then he ran off to Germany. I hope he brings me back something."

"I don't think presents are on his mind."

"You brought me back that pretty poncho when you went to Argentina."

Yes, because I was thinking about it. Whatever, Tyra thought, glancing down at Scotty, who had his head on her shoulder, playing with the string coming down from the hoodie she was wearing over her tank top. She kissed his head, carrying him back into the house and setting him in his bed. He rolled over almost immediately, curling into his blanket and falling to sleep.

A moment later his twin was in the same position in the other bed. Which left her to…nothing. She went back out to the living room, Mindy sitting with her computer. "So what are you doing for the rest of the day?"

Tyra ran her tongue over her teeth, sighing. She smiled, nodding to Mindy and Billy's bedroom. "Why don't you go take a nap? Do your hair, I'll get out nail polish…just take a day. I'll control he kids."

Mindy glanced over her computer. "Really?"

"Really. I'm not leaving yet Mindy."

"Oh thank you!" she laughed, jumping up and giving her another hug and kiss, giggling as she ran off to the bathroom.

Tyra chuckled, reaching for a magazine on the coffee table, stretching back on the couch, flicking through _In Style_. She'd been so busy the last two months. Now it was strange. She felt like she could just relax forever now.


	18. Surprising Yourself

_**Chapter 18: Surprising Yourself**_

"John do you have anything to contribute to this discussion?" Tyra asked, sitting in the corner of the juvenile detention room, her legs crossed and a notepad sitting on her knee. She twisted her pen in her fingertips, studying the kid sitting across from her. He had been in for a few weeks, after transfer from another facility. He'd been boosting cars, but the last few times he boosted, people had been inside and each time he'd decided to give them broken limbs and concussions.

This was one of her first few times with a detainee; Anita wanted to watch her engage one-on-one. She thought she'd be nervous, but she really wasn't. They were just kids. They were human. She'd dealt with people like this in her life and she realized that she didn't feel threatened. John Evans was just a kid, like all the other kids out there, and he had some issues. She wanted to help them, so she wasn't afraid, she repeated to herself.

Her eyes darted towards his hands, which clenched beneath his chair. They were in hard chairs. It was a former classroom, they'd just decided to turn it into sort of a therapy room, but with two hard plastic chairs and nothing else, Tyra didn't think it was very good. She glanced around the four blank white walls. "This place isn't much of a therapy room," she said, voicing her thoughts. She shrugged, quirking her lip. "But hey, it's not some padded cell or one of those doctor's offices with the little trickling water fountain and taupe walls." She rolled her eyes, chuckling. "Taupe is supposed to soothe people. Always annoyed me."

She ran her tongue over her teeth; he hadn't said a word in the twenty minutes they'd been sitting here. Tyra sighed. "Okay, well if you don't want to talk, I'm just going to sit here." She lifted an eyebrow. "You're not going to end this early John. You have exactly fifty minutes in with me before Mr. Guard outside the door takes you back. Would you rather sit here in this nice big room, even if it does have terrible paint, or your tiny little cell with no one but yourself to talk with?"

Nothing, she thought, I don't have anything. Tyra glanced down at her notepad. She wrote nothing. It was a prop. Everything else was in her head. She lifted her eyes to him, her voice quiet. "You know what John? I don't want to be here either."

That got her a slight flicker in his eyes. He immediately glanced down at his hands, which were uncuffed, folded in front of him. He wore an orange jumpsuit and his hair was buzzed. He had on white slip-on shoes, no laces. Tyra glanced down at the tips of her black boots. She straightened her foot out. "What do you think of these boots? I think I might want to trade them for your footwear. Slip-ons are so comfortable."

She sighed. "You know, I'm going to leave here today and I have to go home. My roommate is coming home today." She rolled her eyes. "He's been running around Europe for almost two months, can you believe that? I'm here in Dillon, Texas and he's in Europe. Ridiculous. You know he was convicted of stealing cars too?" It was all a lie, but no one else knew that. Except maybe Lyla, Tyra imagined that she would know by now. John sighed, turning his head, glancing at the door. He sighed again, clearly longing to be free of this room. Of me too, probably. Tyra rolled her eyes. "I'm going to keep talking for another…" She checked at her watch. "Twenty-two minutes."

So she did. She spoke for twenty-two more minutes. At exactly fifty past four, she stood up, walked to the door and knocked her knuckles. She glanced at the window, seeing John and already prepared to respond. She dropped the pad of paper and pen at the same time that the guard pushed open the door.

Tyra spun, grabbing John's arm, which he'd reached up to try to hit her, spinning it around his back, hearing his shoulder crack. He yelled in pain when she threw him up against the wall, her other hand pinning his other shoulder against the wall, jerking his other arm down so both were behind him, forcibly. She blew a strand of hair from her eyes, her heart racing. "John, John, John! I thought we were friends! I've been sitting here for fifty minutes talking about my life to you, I don't just do that with anyone." She leaned down to his ear, whispering. "What are you trying to pull? You know this puts more time on you, right?"

"Fuck you," John cursed. "You think you know me!? You don't know anything!"

Tyra pushed his head harder against the wall as the guard yelled that he would take over, reaching for John's hands and cuffing them, while she stepped back only after the guard had secured him. She felt her cheeks flush, her hair blown about her face. She poked John hard in the chest, her eyebrow lifting. "No little boy, I know everything and you're the one who just fucked yourself. Tell the rest of your little gang in there, and yes John, I know you're getting initiated, go tell them about me and tell them that I do not put up with this shit." She poked him in the chest, her eyebrows lifting. "See you in a week for our next session. I'll wear some pretty bracelets to match yours."

She waved her hand at the guard. "Get him out of here," she said, turning and watching as John, who was somewhat stunned at how harsh she was, tried to get another look at her as they wrestled him out. Yeah, she thought, staring, her heart a steady thrum in her chest it was beating so fast. Yeah, I'm not like the rest.

Tyra picked up her notepad and her pen, staring down at her hands. She closed her eyes, ignoring her trembling fingers, releasing a long breath and walking out of the room, her boot heels clicking on the dirty floor. She waved her badge over the entry/exits and waved at the guards as she made her way through each sallyport to the outside, her ring of keys jangling on her hip.

She crossed the street, entering the parole office, waving at Anita, who was rushing out of her office, her phone still spinning on her desk. "I'm fine," she called.

"You just got attacked!"

"No, I didn't, I attacked him."

"Whoa," one of the parole officers, a nice, affable fellow whose son played for the Panthers, spun in his chair, cracking his gum. Paul shook his head. "You got attacked on your first time out?"

"Third," Anita said.

Tyra rolled her eyes, reaching for her bag. "I'm leaving for the day, I gotta' get home before my roommate. I'm fine, Anita."

"No one is fine after something like that happening to them." Anita lifted an eyebrow. "Tyra, not many of us have to deal with this, are you sure you're okay?"

Tyra smiled a little. She leaned in, whispering to Anita. "He gave me a look as he was leaving. He was surprised. He'll tell them I fought back. It was a good day."

Anita shook her head, rolling her eyes and laughing. "You have ice in your veins Tyra Collette."

"That or some balls of steel," Paul laughed, spinning in his chair again. "We'll start calling you that. Balls of Steel."

"Hey they're bigger than yours Paul," Tyra called, laughing and waving as she walked out. She got to her truck, throwing her stuff into the driver side and climbing up, pausing. She closed her eyes, leaning forward and hitting her forehead against the steering wheel. Wow. Wow. Oh my God. I just…holy crap. So many things raced through her mind. It was a lot. She felt like she was on the outside looking in. This was just…wow.

She started her truck, leaving the parking lot and taking a long way to Dillon, where she stopped at the grocery store and picked up some things, returning to Tim's. She pulled her truck into the driveway, deflating slightly when she saw his black truck was parked beside her POS. "Crap," she muttered. I wanted to beat him home. She climbed out, walking up to the house.

For some reason, her heart was still pounding. This was going to be very interesting. She pushed open the front door, leaning her head in. "Hello?" she called. She stepped inside completely, walking slowly into the kitchen. He hadn't destroyed the house in rage at what she'd done to it. That was good. Tyra set her bags on the counter, removing the wine she'd bought and the cake she'd gotten that said "Welcome Home (And Congrats You Asshole)." It had been hard to get the baker to put that on there, but she finally convinced her with some extra cash.

She left the cake out, putting everything else away, walking into the living room. No sign of them. Tyra lifted her eyes to the ceiling. No sound of them. Hmmm….she went to the back door, which was open, stepping onto the back porch and looking out towards Belle's paddock.

Tim was standing outside of the paddock, holding two crutches in the air like wings, waving them around and shouting like a moron. Tyra had an answer to another question of hers, which was why they'd taken another two weeks to come home, since Tim was wearing a soccer jersey with "Italia" on it and had the Italian flag on the sleeve. Meanwhile, Lyla lay in the grass, her legs waving in the air, one of them in a padded and plastic boot. She was giggling stupidly, yelling for him to stop. Tim dropped the crutches, falling beside her and taking her into his arms, kissing her neck, which had Lyla shrieking and giggling louder.

Tyra chuckled, turning and leaving them alone, taking her car keys and sent Tim a text to come into the kitchen, she had a surprise for them. She left the house, driving towards her old one, where she saw Angela sitting outside on the stoop, flicking through a magazine while delicates fluttered from the clothesline behind her. Her hair was done up in a plastic net. "Dye day?" she called out her open window.

Angela touched the net, laughing. "I gotta' stop the aging process as best as I can, sweetie." Her eyes narrowed. "Maybe you should start…"

"Mom, I don't have gray hair." I will if you keep nagging. Tyra held a bottle of wine aloft. "Bought this for Tim, but figured I'd split it with you."

"Is he back?"

"He's with Lyla, they seemed busy and I didn't want to bother them." Tyra walked over to sit on the stoop beside her mother, glancing down at her fingernails. "Those are pretty."

"Orange Sunrise," Angela said, holding her fingers out and flicking them together. She cocked her head, pursing her lips. "I'm not sure. You don't think it looks like I have traffic cones on my nails?"

"No," she said. She tucked her hair behind her ear, glancing behind her into the house, where Wheel of Fortune was going on the television and the smoke detector was going off. She sighed. "Mom did you leave a cigarette going in the ashtray?"

"Oh shoot!"

Yeah, my mother, Tyra thought, getting up and carrying the wine into the house. She sensed they were going to be drinking a lot of it tonight. She set it on the counter while Angela disconnected the smoke detector, her cigarette between her fingers while she did. She reached for the corkscrew, already sitting out on the counter. "So Mom, what do you want for dinner tonight? Do you want to maybe go out or something?"

"I ordered Chinese, the little boy will be by to drop it off. He's so sweet, he's second string tight end, but I just asked Buddy to put him on first string because he's so cute." Angela returned to the kitchen, puffing away and reaching for glasses. "Speaking of Buddy, he said Lyla got married, can you believe that? To Tim! He was your Tim!"

No Mom, he was no one's Tim. He's his own Tim. Tyra took her glass, walking outside to sit at the back table, Angela following her. She sat down, leaning back, and peered out at the fields. It wasn't as pretty as Tim's land, probably because she could see old oil wells in the distance and neighbors and railroad tracks. She was literally the girl from across the tracks. She turned her glass around on the table. Angela frowned, reaching for her knuckles. "Sweetheart, did you get into a fight? Your knuckles are scraped."

"Uh…yeah, I…" Better get it over with. It was bound to come out eventually. She shrugged, nonchalant. "I had…I had to pin a detainee against the wall after a session." There I said it. That wasn't so bad.

"Tyra!"

"I'm fine," she immediately said. Angela's eyes were wide, like saucers. Tyra grinned, chuckling a little. She shrugged. It wasn't that big of a deal, she just…she wasn't sure why, but it really wasn't. Anita was right, most people never had to endure something like that and they weren't fine…but…maybe she was just in denial, but she felt okay. She glanced down at her knuckles, closing her fingers into a fist. "I just…I'm fine, Mom, I wasn't freaked out. It's part of my job, dealing with the unsavory." She ran her tongue over her teeth, closing her eyes and sighing. "Mom…do you…"

I don't know why I'm going to ask this, because she probably wasn't going to have an answer. Not that Angela was very good at dispensing advice that didn't pertain to men. In which case the advice was always the same. Do what you got to get them and use all you have to do it. Whether they're married or not. She lifted her eyes again, glancing at Angela, who now had her eyes focused on her, and holding her wine glass lightly in her Orange Sunrise fingertips. "Mom," Tyra said. She felt her voice crack. Don't cry, don't cry… "Mom do you think it's weird that I…that I'm happier around juvenile delinquents and…and I'd rather go back and deal with that then…I don't know…"

She briefly thought of the image of Tim running through his yard with the crutches out like wings and Lyla laughing hysterically on the ground. Or Mindy and Billy when they started acting like teenagers, teasing and giggling with each other. Tyra closed her eyes. "Do you think it's weird I'd rather go back to dealing with those delinquent kids than find some guy to goof around with or something?" She wiped at her eyes, her voice dropping. "Because I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I'm just…I really like the jail."

I can't believe I just said that. I've been there now for about two and a half months. It started as a couple times a week, but she started going more and more, after Landry left, because she was…well she was bored. She loved her nephews, but she wanted more experience and Mindy agreed, said she'd find someone else to watch them when Tyra couldn't. She really enjoyed it. She liked planning the counseling sessions and she liked reviewing the files and providing recommendations. She loved sitting with the kids and yes, some of them like John were violent, and some weren't. Some were truly upset.

There were even a few of the adult prisoners at the adult facility she'd spoken with and it had been equally…fun, she thought. Kind of dangerous, just a little bit. It was exciting. Tyra wiped at her eyes again, whispering. "Mom, I really like it. I didn't think I'd ever be doing something like that, but I really like it."

Maybe I've found my niche. Landry told her she'd be good, she'd find something she'd like. So did Mrs. Taylor. Hell, even Tim questioned her being in Dillon before he ran off to Europe. Angela reached over the table, touching her hand. She set her glass of wine down and smiled. Tyra frowned; her mom looked like she was about to cry. "I told you one day this one happen."

What? Tyra shook her head. "What are you talking about?"

"I told you Tyra. One day you would be surprised. You think I don't remember, I know. I know you don't think…" Angela trailed off, her voice quiet. She sighed, smiling sadly. "I know you don't think much of me. That you and…and Mrs. Taylor, the coach's wife…I know you think more of her." She quickly spoke, before Tyra could say anything. "I know you love me, but I know you don't want to be like me. Or Mindy. You want to live in a big city and have a great job and a good education and whether or not you have a boyfriend…that's fine too. I know that sweetie and I told you one day you were going to surprise yourself. You would be surprised, but I wouldn't be. Because I knew you were always going to get there."

Angela smiled wider. "I remember that. I know you think I probably forget things, but…I remember. You're my baby. You were never going to be like Mindy and I'm so happy for you that you're not. You still have so much to do and so many places to go. This isn't it for you. You're not going to be here forever, I know, but this isn't it and I'm glad you're happy. You found what you didn't know you wanted."

Even if it was in Dillon, Tyra thought, smiling. She felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes. She wiped furiously at them, crying a little. "I hate crying," she sobbed, reaching for her mother, as Angela had already stood up and walked over to kneel down, hugging her. "Makes me feel stupid."

"It makes you human."

My mother is giving me advice. She wiped at her eyes again, hiccupping. "I don't know how long I'll be here, but…I at least don't feel like I'm going to die here," she tried to laugh, but she cried again, because it was kind of closer to truth than she wanted it to be. Terrible joke.

Dillon wasn't the worst place in the world to end up, she thought, sometime later, asleep in her old bed, too tired to drive back to Tim's house. She pulled her comforter over her shoulder, smiling into her pillow. Thank goodness it was Friday and she had the weekend to recover from what happened earlier. She clenched her fist, feeling her knuckles ache. It was almost a good ache. Tyra closed her eyes again, curling deeper into the comforter.


	19. Celebrating Together

**A/N:**Thanks for the reviews! Enjoy this chapter, it was the original Epilogue, but I added a few :)

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_**Chapter 19: Celebrating Together**_

"Tim Riggins so help me God I better not see you shaking that present."

Tim froze, holding a present from beneath the Christmas tree. He glanced at Stevie, who was grinning in front of him, his little hands shoved underneath his knees. "I'm not shaking a present, I'm rearranging them."

"A likely story," Mindy muttered. She gestured between him and Stevie. "I don't want to see you guys touching those. Not until I'm done with breakfast. It's a lesson in patience."

"Tim doesn't understand patience," Lyla said, hobbling out of the kitchen on crutches, her ankle still in a boot. She nudged him with one of the crutches. "Help me upstairs please."

Tyra looked over her new iPad, a gift to herself she'd bought with a bonus she received from the prison. She glanced at Stevie, who was frowning at having lost Uncle Tim's attention. "Watch Stevie."

"Why?"

"Uncle Tim is going to do something funny."

Lyla already was holding up her finger, trying to stumble back without putting too much weight on her bad foot. "No. Don't…ah!" She screamed as the crutches fell to the floor, laughing and giggling like a lunatic when Tim flung her up into the air, his arm beneath her knees. She gripped around his neck, trying to seem stern. "I told you to stop doing that!"

"But I love doing it." He softened, kissing her lightly. "I love you." Lyla got a gooey, clearly newlywed look on her face, murmuring she loved him too and returning the kiss.

Tyra threw a pillow at them. "You both are gross, take that somewhere else."

Stevie giggled, watching as Tim spun Lyla around in a circle before he took her, bride-over-the-threshold style up the stairs. The door closed and through the thin walls of the house, Tyra lifted her eyes to the ceiling, rolling them when she heard what sounded distinctly like Lyla getting dropped on the bed.

Stevie rolled on the floor, laughing. "Uncle Tim is so silly."

"Uncle Tim is very silly, where are your brothers?" Tyra set the iPad aside, standing up and walking into the kitchen, where Scotty and Sammy were helping Billy with making pancakes. There was flour and sugar and eggs all over the place. She arched an eyebrow, reaching into the pantry and removed a box of Bisquick, dropping it with a thud beside Billy's arm. He glanced down at it, frowning. "You just add milk and…well other stuff, but definitely not this mess."

Billy picked up the box. "Interesting. Well we don't care, right boys?"

"No, we don't," they both said at once, Scotty whisking together something while Sammy broke another egg into a bowl, clenching it in his fist to crack the shell into the egg as well.

She sighed, leaving the kitchen and following Mindy out of the house onto the porch. Shit, it was freezing. She wrapped her sweater coat tighter around her, shifting in her slippers. It was still early in the morning; last night had been akin to a slumber party, with the three boys sleeping in her room while Billy and Mindy took the guest bedroom downstairs. They'd had to convince all three boys that Santa would know that they were in a new house, that it was a bigger house for everyone to have Christmas dinner and open presents, since the giant Riggins-Collette-Garrity clan had somehow come together and Mindy insisted on having a family Christmas, damnit.

The kids were all going insane, desperately needing to open the presents beneath the tree, but Mindy was still trying to teach them patience. She tucked her hair behind her ear, glancing at the paddock. Belle was standing outside in her little horse blanket, munching on Christmas breakfast of apples, oats, and other assorted fruit.

"I wanted to give you something, before everyone else…" Mindy reached into her coat, removing a packing envelope with Peanuts Christmas characters over it. She smiled sheepishly. "I know I shouldn't have done it, but I wanted to make it special for you and…and away from everyone else."

What did you do? Tyra took the envelope, glancing curiously in her direction. She tugged on the edge, pulling it open and peering inside. Her heart skipped a couple beats, staring at the four large envelopes. She dumped them out onto the porch railing, pushing the Christmas envelope at Mindy.

University of Texas Graduate Admissions, University of California at Los Angeles Graduate Admissions, University of Chicago…New York University….Tyra bit her lip hard. Large envelope was good. She'd had small envelopes before. From a couple of these schools and a couple others she maybe…maybe she did overestimate herself.

She noted the postmarks were through the last few weeks. "You kept these from me?" she whispered.

"I didn't keep them from you, I…well yeah, I kept them from you." Mindy exclaimed. "I'm so sorry Tyra! I wanted to give you it as a Christmas present because I didn't want you to be all mopey and Tyra-ish when we're all here as a family and no one is fighting and…and the kids are all doing great and Mom is happy…"

Tyra flung her arms around her sister's neck, squeezing hard. She smiled into her shoulder, whispering. "Thank you." She let go, reaching for the UT envelope, ripping it open. All she had to read was Congratulations before she was laughing, covering her mouth with her hand, tearing into the other three. All four of them began with _Congratulations, you have been accepted_…

Oh my gosh. Mindy wrapped her arm around her shoulder, whispering. "You didn't think you'd have anything after this year Tyra. Now you have to choose between four."

She bit her lower lip, smiling wide and just staring at the envelopes, papers and catalogues pouring from them. It was almost too much. She dropped everything, covering her face with her hands. I feel so great, she thought, lowering them down to her stomach, pressing. "Wow," she whispered.

"Guess coming back home was worth it little sis."

Yeah, I guess…Tyra turned her head when her phone began to ring from inside the house. She recognized the ringtone as the one she'd personally set for Julie. "I better get that." She went inside and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hey! We're flying in tomorrow, I wanted to know if you could pick us up and take us to Grandma's? Shelby has to do someone's hair for an event."

"Yeah, sure…" Tyra didn't want to tell Julie over the phone. She didn't want to tell anyone for some reason. She smiled to herself. Just the knowledge that she'd gotten in to all the places she applied after last year's rejections was enough. "Um, how is Christmas with the family?"

"Dad brought home a chocolate lab puppy. Mom is not pleased, but she keeps letting the little thing lick her to death, so I think she's just putting up a show to try to teach him a lesson. I think Gracie had a heart attack when he brought him inside. They're naming him Wilson. After footballs, if you can believe that."

"I kind of can."

Julie sighed, closing a door from wherever she was in the Taylor house in Philadelphia. She cleared her throat. "So how is it living with Tim and Lyla, you haven't talked to me about that really."

"They're newlyweds. My noise-cancelling headphones have gotten a workout."

"Enough said."

"Shouldn't you be hanging out with your family?"

"They're fine, they're cleaning up from opening presents, the puppy is peeing everywhere, and Matt is trying to avoid getting cornered into another chat with my father about being a married man."

"I thought your dad had calmed down on that."

"He has, I think he just likes putting up a show. Last night they both escaped cleaning up from dinner like the men they are, talking football and drinking beer. Then Dad tries to be tough. It's funny." She sighed. "So we're coming in tomorrow, we'll see you then, yeah?"

"Yeah, I'll see you then. Merry Christmas Julie."

"Merry Christmas Tyra." Tyra disconnected, putting the phone in her purse, closing the French doors behind her and taking all the applications, carrying them upstairs and into her room. She shoved them into her armoire, closing the doors and smiling. She'd think about it later. Right now she wanted to celebrate.

She stepped out of the room at the same time that Tim and Lyla came out of their bedroom. She lifted an eyebrow, her arms crossing. "Whatcha' guys doing?" she drawled, smiling.

"Shut up," Tim said. "We weren't doing anything."

"You take to wearing lip gloss then?"

He rubbed hard at his lips, only making the pink gloss out more. "We were just talking," Lyla lied, rubbing at her neck, which had beard burn. She stepped carefully on her booted foot, wincing slightly. She leaned on Tim, who was already waiting for her, crouching slightly so she could jump onto his back. "Thank you, you're like my personal pack mule."

"It's why you married me."

"They never should have let me do that, I was on painkillers. You're not supposed to make big life decisions in those moments."

Tyra smiled, following them down the stairs, both of them bickering lovingly. She'd been living with them for the last two months, finding that it had been…interesting. She'd kind of avoided Lyla when they were alone, but otherwise, it had been okay. She stepped off the bottom step, turning and running into Stevie. His little blue glasses made his eyes seem wider than they were. "I'm ready for presents. I want to sit next to you."

"Did you get a pancake?"

"I had cereal. Daddy burned the pancakes." Yeah, he did, Tyra thought, smelling smoke in the kitchen. Tim was yelling at Billy about not burning down his house, while the twins poke at black discs on a plate, eating toast.

The front doorbell rang and then opened without anyone going to see who it was, Buddy Garrity and Angela coming inside, yelling for people and saying Merry Christmas. The kids yelled for their grandmother, running to the both of them. Tyra shook her head, smiling and walking into the living room, where Lyla was seated in Tim's chair. "Pretty insane here," she commented.

"Yeah, but it would be strange if it was any other way." Lyla looked up, Scotty coming to sit with her, holding one of his presents. "Did you already get that sweetie?"

"It's for you. Uncle Tim said."

"Oh, well should I open it now?"

"He said yes." Sammy came to join them, crawling up beside her and looking down. Sammy frowned, poking the small box. "It's too little."

"Sometimes the littlest things are the best presents," Lyla said to them both. Tyra cuddled on the couch with Stevie, everyone filing into the living room and Mindy beginning to direct traffic, while Tim threw boxes at the kids. Stevie grabbed hold of one of his, tearing into the paper before Mindy said he could.

Tyra just watched, smiling as the kids began opening and shouting in glee at their new toys. She had a couple that Angela set beside her foot, but didn't move to open them, watching as Lyla removed a jewelry box from the white packing box she'd unwrapped. She glanced up at Tim, who was leaning on the back of the couch, smiling at her. "Thanks," he whispered.

"Well you would have picked something ugly."

"Oh my God!" Lyla exclaimed, jumping in the seat. She laughed, lifting the ring up from the box. She lifted her face to his, grinning wide. "Tim! Oh my God…" She shakily pushed the ring onto her left hand; against the slim silver band that Tim had bought her in Germany.

Buddy grumbled from beside Lyla. "It's only _okay._"

It was one and a half carats, square cut, with a twisted platinum band. It was more than okay; Tyra had helped him pick it out earlier that month. He wanted to get her something that was teardrop shaped and looked horrible and Tyra could not abide by that. "It's beautiful," Lyla gushed, reaching her arms up when Tim went to sit in the chair, pulling her into his lap. She instructed Stevie to pass her a box, giving it to him.

Tyra opened up some of her presents, finding a new laptop bag Angela got her, embossed with her initials. She got a case for her iPad and, because Mindy was stupid, a t-shirt that was black and white striped and said "Jailbait" on it. "Nice," she commented. "I will never wear this ever."

"Here Aunt Tyra." Stevie gave her a messily wrapped up gift, curling against her, hugging one of his new toys against him, a giant Transformer. He also got books and a bunch of science toys. "My gift."

What did you get me sweetie? She unwrapped it, opening up a box, smiling wide at his eager look. "What is it," she drawled, pushing through paper and finding a homemade wooden framed picture of her and the boys, standing with Belle. "Oh." She touched her fingertips to her heart. It was beautiful. The frame was all painted different colors, with "Stevie", "Scotty", and "Sammy" written in messy handwriting on the sides. "TYRA" was on the bottom in much neater writing, probably done by Mindy.

She hugged Stevie against her, whispering. "I will put this in my office and keep it always."

"Good," he giggled, kissing her cheek and hugging. "I love you Aunt Tyra. You're the best ever."

I am the best ever, aren't I? She smiled, setting the frame back in its box, looking up and watching as everyone laughed and in some cases, like with Tim, giggled. She stood up, taking her gifts and carrying them upstairs to her room, taking a moment. She didn't think it would hit her so hard.

I love them all so much, she thought, touching the picture again. She took another breath, walking out of the room and downstairs, slipping out the front door, needing to be alone for a second, just to…to focus. Some fresh air. Clear her mind. She leaned on the railing, watching as it began to drizzle. December in Texas could be cold and dreary, especially out here. She glanced down at the ground, frozen and frosted. I wouldn't be surprised if it started to snow, she mused, closing her eyes. Three months. I've been back three months. When will I go? Soon. I have to make a decision about…schools now, the jail job, which her supervisor said might open up to a full time position. I have to find a place to live, I…ugh, I might have to move back in with Mom. Tim and Lyla were married; she couldn't keep rooming with them for very long.

The front door opened, closing quietly. "Go away, whoever you are," she requested.

"Tim gave me another gift, my name on the deed to the house, so…" Lyla shrugged, hopping up to sit against one of the porch posts, dangling her booted foot over the porch floor. She smiled a little, her dark eyes sparkling. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You going back to Africa?" she asked, turning her head to face Lyla. She leaned against the railing, her arms crossing and tugging her thick sweater coat tighter around her. "Because Tim is insane about you Lyla, I don't know if he's going to let you go back."

"No one let's me do anything," Lyla commented. She smiled, shrugging. "I'm going to go back to helping people. It's my job. I teach kids who would never get an education if they didn't have people in organizations like the Peace Corps or like my program." She sighed, looking down at her hands, whispering. "I'll come back to Dillon and I'll teach…whatever. I'll find something."

Tyra narrowed her eyes. "Do you really want to come back though Lyla?"

The other woman waited a beat, smiling, and the corners of her eyes crinkling. She glanced down at her left hand, the diamond ring sparkling against her much cheaper wedding bad. She looked out at the land, scanning across the tops of the cars in the driveway to the main road. Did you hear me, Tyra wondered, when Lyla still hadn't spoken after a few minutes. Lyla finally sighed. "You know Tyra…you and I aren't much different."

Oh yeah? I thought we were like night and day. "Explain," she advised. Because I really don't get it.

Lyla lifted her eyebrow, smiling in her direction. "You wanted out of Dillon," she said. She pointed to herself. "I didn't want out of Dillon so much as I wanted to just be able to do what I wanted. On my own. I didn't want to be obligated to be the reason for someone's else's happiness." She pursed her lips, shrugging, her voice dropping and glancing down at her hands. "I was always the reason for someone else, I wanted to be my own reason, so…so I left Tim. I had no intention of returning…until he helped me figure some things out and I went to Africa and…"

She ran her tongue over her teeth, smiling at Tyra. "And I saw people who have nothing. Nothing but each other…and they're happy. Little kids who live in these shacks and these huts in these tiny little villages, but their parents love them and they all have each other and…" She shrugged, whispering. "It makes you appreciate things. It makes you realize that maybe…" She shrugged again, twisting her ring on her finger, speaking slowly. "Maybe what you want has been right there and…and living in Dillon is not the greatest fear for me."

Lyla gestured towards her, folding her hands in her lap. "It was your fear, right? Living in Dillon forever and ending up like your family? I didn't want to be my mother…not after Jason's accident. After everything changed, I didn't want to marry my high school boyfriend and have babies and live in Dillon and give up my life and not having what I truly wanted until I was in my forties. Like my mom." She tucked her hair behind her ear, smiling. "But Dillon for me now? It's just a place. I want to be happy. I am happy."

Happy was relative, Tyra thought. She thought of the letters upstairs, swishing her lips around for a moment. "I got…" She paused. Mindy knew. Julie would know sooner rather than later and Lyla Garrity was talking to her about what it took to be happy, even if that included Dillon. She sighed. "I got into the graduate schools I applied for. All four. UT, UCLA, UPenn, and Chicago."

Lyla's eyes widened. "Wow," she whispered. She smiled, long and slow. "That's great Tyra! Where are you going to go?"

I have absolutely no idea. That seems to be a theme for me. Tyra shrugged. "I don't know. I have a lot to think about."

"Well," Lyla said, hopping off the railing. She leaned carefully on her foot, the boot wobbling slightly. She leaned a hand on the post. "I think that whatever your decision, you will make the right one. You're still here now, but you won't be forever. It's a choice you have to make."

"You made it," Tyra said.

"I did. I'll go back to teaching overseas, I'll come back…Tim will have to learn not to sleep with strippers in my absence, but I trust him." She wiggled her ring finger, chuckling. "This is going to weigh heavy on him."

"He'll be fine," Tyra said. She rolled her eyes. "Just keep an eye out for a chick named Skye. She seemed to be the longest one."

"Yeah, those pictures your mom sent in that care package? He had a hard time explaining those. So I spoke with her a couple weeks ago. She won't be around here again." I almost don't want to know what that means, Tyra thought, lifting an eyebrow at Garrity's dark look. It passed instantly, replaced with a sunny smile. Freaky. Lyla opened the front door, just as Tim appeared. "Hello husband," she greeted him.

"Hello wife. Your dad…" That was all Tim had to say before Lyla was going into the house, rolling her eyes and mumbling under her breath. Tim stepped outside. "What're you doing out here? Stevie wants to show you his new science kit."

"Just thinking." Tyra closed her eyes, letting the breeze brush over her face. It was relaxing. It was so needed after the last four years of constantly going. Lyla was right though. She had a choice to stay in Dillon. She wasn't going to take it; she was never going to take it. I'm not stranded.

Tim scuffed the bottom of his boot on the porch floor, his arms crossed over his chest. She wondered how many of the same gray flannel shirt he had, because he was wearing one she swore he'd already wore three times that week. His left hand cupped his right elbow. "I can't believe you're married," she whispered, touching his ring.

"Yeah. Weird. You didn't see what Lyla got me."

"What'd she get you?"

"Matching beer steins!" He grinned and then sighed sadly. "I liked that German beer. They had fun bars." He raked his fingers through his hair, which was short, but the ends were long. He looked so different. Even when he left a couple months ago for Europe he was different. Now it just seemed…well different was the only word she could come up with now. He glanced in her direction, frowning. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, smiling down at her hands, whispering. "Short hair looks good on you."

"Thought I might need a change to go with everything else. It's easier to deal with…working and stuff." He ran his tongue over his teeth. He sighed. "I didn't tell Lyla yet, but I'm quitting The Landing Strip. I'm too old to be a bouncer."

"You're twenty-three."

"I'm married now," he said, smiling. He lifted his eyebrow. "Garrity doesn't really get jealous, but…she has an adorable little violent streak from time to time."

"I wouldn't have guessed." She chuckled, tossing her hair out of her eyes. It was back to blonde now. "I cannot believe you're married. You're twenty-three Tim. No one gets married that young nowadays."

He looked down at his boots, lifting his eyes back to her again. He shrugged, his voice quiet as he gazed out at the front yard. "It's different when you really love someone." He glanced her way again, smiling. "I know it's been awhile, but…Billy said Landry was in town for the wedding. You talked to him recently?"

"No, his parents are moving, so he's staying in Houston." She shrugged. She'd heard about that from Julie who heard from Matt. She didn't expect she'd talk to Landry unless she ran into him while she was visiting Matt and Julie or…or maybe at a high school reunion or something. She cleared her throat. "People grow up. They grow apart."

"Yeah. I guess."

Tyra wanted to go back inside. She'd had enough fresh air and was starting to get cold. She leaned her shoulder against his, whispering into his ear. "Just please Tim, whatever you do…" she smiled. "Don't procreate until you're at least thirty."

"Don't what?"

"Nevermind." Tyra let go of him, squeezing his wrist slightly, and turned to go back inside. She joined everyone in the living room, hugging Stevie against her and leaning down to look at his new science toy, which was a microscope. He was already shoving things beneath it, inspecting. "Whatcha' got kid?"

"I'm looking for alien bugs."

"Mind if I join you?"

"No." Tyra settled beside him, helping with the little slides and exchanging them to view. She leaned back on her hand, watching everyone. Mindy and Billy were giggling in the kitchen while Mindy prepared dinner. Angela was bickering with Buddy, who was trying to show her something with her new Louis Vuitton bag he'd bought her. She glanced at the twins, who were fighting with their action figures and finally landed her gaze on Tim and Lyla, who were outside, walking towards Belle's stall, Lyla moving quick on her crutches.

It would be good, she thought, smiling. She wasn't going to end up here forever. Everyone here wanted to be here, including her. Stevie looked up, blinking. "When do you go back to school Aunt Tyra?"

"Soon sweetie. Soon."

"You'll stay until you do?"

Tyra nodded, her arm wrapping around her favorite (although she would never admit it) nephew. She kissed his temple, reaching for the microscope to peer down at the tiny little sample of whatever he'd plucked off the carpet. "I'll stay until I do. This is my home now too."


	20. Taking a Dare

**A/N:**Thanks for the reviews! So glad people enjoy this. There are two more chapters left. :) Enjoy!

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**_Chapter 20: Taking a Dare_**

"So which school are going to going to go to?" Julie asked, sitting cross-legged in the center of Tyra's bedroom, sipping her drink and surveying the various packets spread out in front of her. She tapped the one for UCLA, which was relatively large. "This seems heavy."

Tyra shook her head, pointing to UT. "This one is leading the charge." She laid down another piece of paper in the pile for UPenn. She leaned back on her hands, sighing and staring at the piles. There was a large piece of paper tacked to her wall, with hash marks in various columns. "I made a pro and con list for all of them."

"That's what people do."

"Tim took four bottle caps and picked the one he said was for UT. I think he looked."

"That sounds incredibly legitimate."

"He just wants me to stay because he'll be bored when Lyla goes back to Africa or wherever. If she goes back." There had been no movement on that front and it was April. She had until May 31st to confirm acceptance to one of the four schools. I have four weeks, four weeks for this crap to be postmarked and received by one of the schools, which means I have today. Pretty much today to decide. Tyra had been waiting until Julie was in Dillon anyway. They were back checking on Grandma and Matt needed some 'inspiration' for some new paintings. He was off with some old friends of his, including Tim.

That was not going to end well, Tyra thought, thinking of this morning when Tim had announced that he was bored. "You could always vacuum and mop up the kitchen," Lyla had said over the rim of her coffee mug, perusing the newspaper. That ought to do it, Tyra had thought, viewing Tim over the top of her magazine, smiling when he'd found his cereal bowl quite fascinating along with suddenly realizing he had urgent construction matters to attend to and off he went. She rolled onto her stomach, pointing to UT. "They'll give me an alumni scholarship, but I can't cover all the tuition. Plus, there isn't a prison nearby." She tapped Chicago. "This is just crime central."

"I cannot believe you are focusing on a school that has more crime," Julie said, tapping away on her computer. She glanced down at the packets, shrugging. "I think we need to take your mind off of this. You're studying too hard."

"Talk about studying, I cannot believe my GRE scores were high enough for any of these schools." Tyra suspected it was her 'hands-on' experience with actual counseling and social work that swayed her favor, rather than her abysmal GRE scores. She had to agree with Julie though. It was time for a break, they'd been doing this all morning, going through the coursebooks, possible schedules, and reputations of the professors. I thought I would only get into one and now I have four, she thought, folding everything up and slipping it into their respective files, leaving the bedroom and going downstairs, grabbing her jacket from the hook on the wall.

"Where are you guys going?" a soft voice said from the hallway.

Tyra turned quickly, Julie slamming into her back. She stared at Lyla, standing in the center of the hallway, leaning on her cane, which had pink stripes running up and down it. She was wearing a sports bra and yoga pants with tennis shoes, her dark hair pulled on top of her head in a messy topknot. "Holy crap," Julie said from behind her, pointing. "Are those your scars?"

Lyla glanced down at her side, where there were four indentations to her otherwise flawless skin. They were faded red, slightly puckered. She touched them. "Yeah. My bullet wounds." She held up her left arm. "This is from Mali. It's a knife wound."

"Wow," Julie mouthed. She shook her head. "You know there are journalists that go into those sorts of places, I just don't know if I can do it. I'll stick to writing about politics."

"I would imagine that'd be just as dangerous as investigative journalism."

"True."

Tyra bit her bottom lip. She could see Lyla's eyes widen slightly, almost eager and wanting to ask if she could come wherever they were going, but too polite to ask if she could crash their party. She knew that the other woman had been bored, staying at home most of the time and trying to find things to keep her busy, and after two years traveling the world, Dillon was like a prison. She also suspected Lyla did have many friends. Tyra only ever knew her to hang out with the cheerleaders who abandoned her in high school and then Tim and Jason. She glanced at Julie, who just shrugged, also knowing what Lyla was semi-asking. "We don't really know where we're going," she said.

Julie shrugged. "Figured we'd drive around. Maybe go to the lake? School's still in session so it' s…probably empty."

Tyra took a step backwards towards the door. "What were you going to do?" She and Julie had always done their thing. She'd never socialized with Lyla before with Julie. Lyla was fine, they were fine, but all three of them? She feared it'd be a bit awkward. The two of them had almost nothing in common with Lyla. Never had.

"I don't know, I finished my workout and my physical therapy. I was going to go change and then…" Lyla shrugged. She rolled her eyes. "Fold Tim's laundry. Cook in the kitchen barefoot. I don't know."

"Gotta' have a couple of kids rolling around the floor if you want to live up to male society's expectations," Julie said.

Lyla instantly shook her head. "That's not happening." It had become a long-running joke in the house that Lyla was going to ensure she didn't get pregnant until Tim was at least thirty. He wouldn't be mature until then, she said. He had to age like a fine wine or cheese, she joked.

This was just dancing around the issue. Tyra shrugged, rolling her eyes. "Don't make a big deal Garrity. Do you want to come with us? We can wait for you to change." I wanted to hang out with Julie, but…she also wanted to be polite.

"Thank you, I'll be down in a moment."

Julie waited until the door upstairs closed. "That wasn't so hard, was it Tyra?" she said, laughing. "I think you're getting better. It's only been six months since you've been living with her."

"Oh shut up."

They waited for a few minutes out on the porch, Lyla emerging out the front door a moment later, wearing a long patterned maxi skirt with a tank top and beat-up leather messenger bag. She shoved aviators over her eyes, turning around and locking the front door, leaning on her cane, which was actually a crutch that wrapped around her wrist, walking down the steps and down the path to the drive. "Do we want to take my car?" she suggested, walking towards her snappy red convertible Beatle. Tim made her park it as far from his trucks as possible, insisting that it would "feminize" them.

"This is adorable," Julie gushed, immediately walking by Tyra's truck to the car. She climbed into the front seat, leaning over. "Tyra do you want the front?"

"Well I am ten feet taller than you, but I'll crunch myself in the backseat."

Julie rolled her eyes, clambering over the seats into the back, while Lyla climbed into the driver's side, stowing her crutch in the back. "How long do you have to have this?" Julie asked.

"Another month. My ankle is still a little weak; the last pin has to stay in a little longer. It got banged up pretty bad." Lyla backed out of the driveway, lowering the top on the car, glancing at both of them as she headed towards town. "I'm just driving, so let me know where you want to go."

"Just go to the lake," Tyra suggested. She needed to clear her mind. Hanging around Dillon wasn't going to help with that. She peered out the window, watching the fields pass quickly as Lyla drove a little over the speed limit. She looked in the mirror at Julie, who was texting. "Where is Matt now?"

"He says that Tim took them somewhere and he's not allowed to say."

"Tell Tim that I'll tell you guys what he does before bed if he doesn't spill where they are," Lyla said. She glanced at Julie in the mirror as Tyra turned her head, curious at that statement. "Do it."

"Okay." A moment later, Julie looked up. "Matt says that they're at the football field reliving their glory days. Tim's complaining about his shoulder, but there's about four kids who are going to need a lot of painkillers after the way Tim blocked them. Plus Matt says that he's injured and needs to be attended to immediately by his wife."

Tyra rolled her eyes. Matt and Julie were still honeymooning. Tim and Lyla had a strange "we've been married for twenty years" vibe going, even if they were still in a honeymoon phase. She tapped her fingers on the console between her and Lyla. "We could go to the prison," she suggested. "I have some work to do. I could give you guys a tour."

"I don't ever want to go near that place," Lyla whispered. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel. "But thanks for the suggestion."

Okay, so no prison. Tyra tried not to think about schools, but she was already weighing the four cities in her mind. Austin, she knew by heart after four years there. Los Angeles was where she'd wanted to run away when she was a teenager. Chicago was where Matt and Julie were and had an artsy vibe going for it among all four of the cities. Then there was Philadelphia, where Mrs. Taylor was and it was just…historical. The only Ivy of the four she'd gotten into and wouldn't that be something? Tyra Collette, Ivy League graduate. The car plunged into silence. No one said anything, despite the fact that the drive was about an hour from Dillon. Tyra cleared her throat, about fifteen awkward minutes later. "So Julie," she said. She knew, but for the benefit of Lyla, she figured she'd try to start a conversation. "How is Chicago?"

"It's good." Come on Julie, Tyra thought, rolling her eyes. A little more please. Julie leaned forward between them, frowning. "So what does Tim do before bed that he doesn't want us to know?"

"Hmm?" Lyla shrugged. "Oh he's embarrassed about this, but he's obsessed with dental hygiene. He sits and flosses for about twenty minutes before bed."

"Does he use individual strands for each tooth?" Julie asked, slightly awed. Tyra frowned. That didn't sound like Tim. He couldn't be bothered to wash his hands most of the time. It drove her insane. "Because that would be…" Lyla was already nodding. "Weird. Wow. Who would have thought?"

"Can we not talk about Tim's teeth please?" Tyra asked. She rubbed at her forehead, closing her eyes. Stop thinking about schools. Earlier this year it was don't think about jobs or don't think about coming back to Dillon. Now it was just clear your mind, don't think about schools, and an answer will come to her.

Julie frowned, glancing at Lyla again. "What other weird things does Tim do?"

"Actually, he doesn't like coffee so much. He drinks it to wake up, but he doesn't like it."

"Seriously?"

"Tim drinks tea."

"Whoa."

"Yup." Lyla proceeded to share the story of when they had high tea in England on the way home from Europe, which Tyra had already heard twice now, since it was just something Lyla used as a bit of an icebreaker with new people. She tapped her fingers on the car door again. This was not how she wanted to spend her afternoon, making pleasant chitchat with Lyla Garrity while Julie played 20 Questions on Tim's habits.

Enough, she thought, closing her eyes and leaning back in the seat. She tried to zone out, but the talking was loud enough to keep her awake. Tyra finally opened her eyes when Lyla turned off the road, heading towards the lake, which she could see in the distance. They parked and Lyla climbed out, stretching out her foot. She reached for her crutch, walking off to see about renting a boat for them later. With Garrity gone, Tyra rounded on her best friend. "Seriously? What was going on with you? You want to know about Tim, ask him."

"Look Tyra, you're not making this easy either, you invited her, I'm trying to be nice and I don't know Lyla Garrity. Only thing I know about her is she's married to Tim so I asked about Tim and she talked about him," Julie said. She cocked her head, lifting an eyebrow. "What's your problem with her anyway Tyra? That was high school. Her dad is dating your mom and they seem happy together."

"I don't have a problem with her, it's just…the three of us? It's awkward."

"Because you make it awkward, she seems like she's really trying. How do you guys live together anyway?" Julie asked, shaking her head and chuckling. "You are roommates."

"We are roommates, we don't have a problem with each other. Besides, you're my friend and I didn't want to share you," Tyra said, wrapping her arm around Julie's shoulders, walking towards the water. She sighed. "Although Lyla being here does take my mind off of the schools."

"She's just lonely, I don't think she has many friends," Julie said. She leaned her shoulder into Tyra. "Hey, so are we going to get dinner tonight? I thought we might head out of Dillon, maybe drive to Austin."

"Julie that's like four hours."

"We could spend the weekend. It'll be fun. You can show me all your hangouts and haunts from UT. Maybe it will clear your mind even more." Julie looked up, waving to Lyla who was emerging from the boathouse. She shook her head. "I feel bad she's got that crutch."

"She's fine." Tyra felt a little bad too, but didn't admit it. She nodded towards Lyla's large messenger bag banging against her hip. "Did you get us a boat?"

"Yeah, I did, it's the one down there," Lyla said, tossing her the key to the boat's engine. She leaned on her crutch, lifting her eyebrow. "I have something else for us. Grabbed it on my way out of the house." She reached into her bag, removing a bottle of tequila. She swung it in her fingers. "Tim's finest reserve label."

"Awesome," Julie said, taking the bottle, swinging it in her fingertips and sauntering towards the dock.

Lyla turned to Tyra, smiling slightly. "I know you invited me because you felt sorry. I know this is weird, even if we've lived together for six months. I thought if I could help you take your mind off things, well…" She shrugged. "I know you're going through some stuff. I've been there, if you need to talk."

Gosh I'm stupid, Tyra thought, rubbing at her hair. She shook her fingers through it, her hand falling to her thigh. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Julie was right. This was dumb. She felt silly for saying it, knowing that it was silly, but she couldn't help how she felt sometimes. She shrugged, mumbling. "I don't usually get like this, it's just…this decision…"

"I understand." Lyla walked down towards the lake, leaning heavily on her crutch on the unsteady wet sand and rock. She touched her flipflop to the water, removing her foot when it lapped at her toes. She looked up at Tyra. "You know that Tim told me to go to Africa, right?"

"Yeah."

"Told me to close my eyes," she said, grinning, obviously reliving the moment in her head. Tyra frowned, listening intently. Lyla closed her eyes, her voice quiet. "Told me to close my eyes and just let my mind go blank." She opened her eyes. "He told me that he wanted me to think of nothing and then we…we went off and did our thing and my mind was blank until suddenly I was sitting there and all of a sudden…Africa." She grinned, cocking her head. "Let your mind go blank Tyra. Really, really let it go blank and then this…the thing, I guess you could call it, will hit you. It works."

Julie yelled at them from the dock. "Are you coming here or not!?"

"Coming!" Lyla called, hurrying towards Julie. Tyra stood in place for a few seconds, her eyes closing. Let it go blank. Easier said than done. She turned, going to join them.

A few hours later, with the sun set behind them and a fire going on the beach, the three of them well into their bottle of tequila, Tyra felt like her mind really was blank. Julie swallowed some of her drink. "Okay, I know this is stupid, but it's three girls drinking, so we have to do this." Her eyes twinkled. "Truth or dare."

"Truth or dare?" Tyra snorted. She fell back in the sand, a blanket around her shoulders. "Julie you don't play that game beyond eighth grade sleepovers! We're twenty…something." She couldn't think of how old she was right now.

"Come on! It'll be fun! See we're older now, so the truths become a lot more risqué and well, truthful." Julie lifted her eyebrow. "Come on, I'll go first, one of you ask me."

"Truth," Lyla said, from her position on a log, her leg in front of her and one of Tim's ratty flannel shirts wrapped around her against the cold. She cocked her head, glancing at Tyra and then to Julie. "What does Matt Saracen wear to bed?"

"He's a little angel, he probably wears tidy whities," Tyra teased.

"Nothing," Julie laughed. She threw back some more tequila. "That's not true. He's a t-shirt, shorts, and socks kind of a guy, no matter how many times I tell him to take the damn socks off. He says he gets cold." She pointed to Lyla. "I have a truth."

"What?"

Julie smiled, glancing at Tyra. What are you going to ask, Tyra wondered, narrowing her eyes. Could be anything. Seemed like she'd already asked enough about Tim in the car that there was nothing else to ask. "What did you do to the stripper?"

Lyla's innocent mask immediately came on. She smiled, her eyes twinkling, and she lifted her shoulders. "I don't know what you mean."

"Skye the Stripper, what did you do to her to get her to stay away?"

"Tyra talked to her last I knew."

Tyra shook her head, pointing at Lyla. "Yeah, but at you just said you talked to her, but we're playing a game and you said you'd play, so you have to tell the truth, what did you do to the stripper?"

The two of them stared at her, finally hard enough that Lyla gave an exasperated sigh, setting her glass at her feet and leaning forward, sitting up and leaning forward, her eyebrow arching. "You really want to know?" She pursed her lips, looking off at the lake and then back, glancing between the both of them. "When you're married to Tim Riggins or for that matter, when you're dating him in high school, you have a look but do not touch policy."

"Hilarious," Julie giggled.

"I trust Tim implicitly and I didn't care about Skye the stripper until she decided to show up at my doorstep one morning." She glanced at Tyra, smiling wide. "You were at work, Tim was at work, and I was at home. You see Skye had decided that while she was going to redeem herself and become an honest dancer, she wanted to let Tim know how she still felt about him. I informed Skye that I was Tim's wife and I would not appreciate it if she left. She did, until Tim came home and said Skye showed up at the construction site."

Uh-oh, I didn't know this, Tyra thought, hanging onto Lyla's every word. The other woman cleared her throat, clearly enjoying telling this story. "Tim told her to leave, she did, and the next day when she came back to the house, I happened to be in the middle of hanging up the scimitar that I obtained while on a humanitarian trip to Iraq. I might have been holding it up when she came to the front door."

Julie snorted loudly again. "Oh my God."

"Skye took one look at it, said she'd never go near Tim again, and went running for the hills." Lyla clapped her hands together, quirking her lip up, glancing at Tyra. "I never said a word to her. That's the truth. I never say a word to any of them, they just happen to find me intimidating."

Tyra closed her eyes, chuckling. Look but don't touch. Wow. She glanced at Julie, who was looking at her. "What?"

"I dare you to tell us who was better in bed, Tim or Landry."

"Oh my God, I am not taking that dare."

"I'm actually curious myself," Lyla said.

They both stared at her until finally Tyra rolled her eyes, closing them tight. This was horribly embarrassing. She felt her cheeks flush. "Tim is good for one night stands, Landry is good for relationships. Sorry Lyla."

"That doesn't answer the dare, you have to pick one."

"Neither, there, I said it. Neither."

"That's not an answer."

Tyra refused to give an answer, meanwhile, Julie dared Lyla to jump off the dock, which she did with no hesitation. Tyra dared Julie to try to do a Dillon Panther cheer, which she barely got through before she gave up, while Lyla laughed hysterically from the side. They went on like that for the next hour, doing stupid things. Tyra began to sober up, while Lyla and Julie got drunker. Eventually, she was standing, while Lyla and Julie were on the dock, Lyla still drying off from jumping in the lake. "My mom wants me to have kids now that I'm married, like this ring on my finger is an instant path to motherhood," Lyla complained, looking at Julie. She frowned. "Does yours?"

"No, I think if I told her I was pregnant she'd burst into tears and not from joy," Julie sighed. She shook her head, tilting her head backwards. "What about you Tyra? Does your mom want you to have kids?"

"Probably. She wants me to find a rich husband." Tyra thought of her mother telling her how proud she was. She shrugged. "Or not."

Lyla groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Oh my God, I'm married to Tim Riggins."

"Are you just now realizing this? It's been almost six months," Tyra said. She shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest and observing the pathetic sadness that lay before her in the forms of Lyla and Julie. "You should probably make sure you want to keep up with it or, well talk to a lawyer or something."

"Marriage is hard," Julie exclaimed. She sat back on her hands, lifting one of them up and trying to count on her fingers, her words slurring. "I mean, it's really hard, you have to live with the person all the time, they are always there no matter how much you just want to have a nice bath when you get home from work because you work all day at a computer and your shoulders hurt and would it kill him to have the bath ready for you with a glass of wine and some nice music and maybe even a massage? No! No, he's sitting there in front of the TV watching football and there's paint all over the slipcover you spent months looking for to match the gross thrift store chair he decided to bring home."

Wow, that was intense, Tyra thought, eyebrows lifting almost to her hairline. She glanced at Lyla, who was just frowning at Julie. Lyla cocked her head. "It is hard," she said, turning to look at Tyra and pointed. "You have it easy, you're not married."

"No, she's not," Julie said. She grabbed hold of Tyra's legs, wrapping her arms tight. "Hey, can we live through you? Please?"

"Yes, please?" Lyla giggled. She grabbed her crutch, sighing at it. "Tim uses this as a sword. I live with a five-year old." She cried out, sobbing. "I live with Tim Riggins!"

"And I live with Matt Saracen!"

"But we love them, right?" Lyla asked, trying to get to her feet, but tripping a little. Tyra felt bad for her, especially since she had a bad leg, and helped her to her feet. She grabbed hold of her tightly as Lyla began to sway, jabbing her crutch into her stomach. "Tyra, thank you! You're so nice! I love you!"

"I love you too Garrity."

"I changed my name," Lyla cried again, wiping at her eyes. She sniffed. "I'm a Riggins now. Oh my God, I'm a Riggins now! What does that even mean for me? Do I have to start drinking beer from a can? I hate canned beer!"

I don't know what it means, but I'm just glad it's not me, Tyra thought, helping both of them to the car. She shook her head, pouring them into the backseat. "I'm taking you guys home because, well…it's getting sad and weird." She returned to put out the fire and clean up their mess, before going back to the car, where both of them were now asleep, Julie mumbling in her sleep about horrible chairs. I am so glad I stopped drinking like two hours ago, Tyra thought, climbing into the front seat.

She drove away, using the silence to do what Lyla said. Let her mind go blank. Emptiness filled it, just an entire blackness. Nothing. She smiled a little. It was working. She glanced in the backseat, Julie stirring a little. "You okay Mrs. Saracen?"

"I had a lot to drink," Julie mumbled. She sat up, shaking her head and wiping at her eyes, wincing. "Did I try to do a cartwheel?"

"Try is the best word, yes. Fail? That's a more accurate description." Tyra watched her fall back against the seat, awake, but quiet, letting her sober up a bit. She reached for a bottle of water and passed it to her. "Hydrate."

An hour or so passed and they pulled into the driveway. "Uh oh, Daddy's awake," Julie said, as Tim stood up from where he'd been sitting on the porch steps. "We're all in trouble now."

"Shush, now go to your room."

"Mommy's mad too."

Tyra climbed out of the car, Julie following after her and going into the house, her phone already to her ear to call Matt. She opened the passenger door, Tim walking around and whistling low under his breath. "Wow, you got her bombed," he said, leaning in and reaching for Lyla. He grunted as he pulled up dead weight Garrity. "Must have been some night, she usually has to drink a case before she gets like this." He shifted a little, groaning. "Gained a couple too since the last time I had to do this."

The movement awakened Lyla a bit, a giggle escaping her lips. "Hey," Lyla slurred, her arms around Tim's neck. She patted his nose with her fingertip. "I married you. I changed my name too."

"Yes you did."

"I think I love you."

"I certainly hope so. Your breath is terrible Garrity. Did you have some stuff to drink today?"

"I did! It was good."

"Seems like it." He glared at Tyra, carrying Lyla upstairs. Tyra went to the bathroom, washing up and when she emerged, Tim was sitting in his armchair, the chair turned to face her before she made a move to sneak upstairs. He wagged his finger at her. "I want to talk to you."

"Oh come on, we just had a few too many, she'll have a hangover in the morning and it'll be fine."

Tim leaned back in the chair, smiling slightly. He spun around again. "Fine. Whatever. Julie's upstairs. Matt's back at his house with Grandma."

"Are you going to go tend to your wife?"

"She has to learn that coming home drunk is not good."

I think I threw up a little at the hypocrisy of that statement, Tyra thought, leaving him to watch ESPN and going up to her room, where Julie was lying on her bed. She closed the door behind her, walking over and kicking off her shoes, stretching out beside Julie and burying her face into a pillow. She felt loose. Tired, really tired, that's for sure.

Julie rolled onto her stomach, clutching a pillow to her chest. "Matt's with Grandma. I told him I'd be there tomorrow. You still want to go to Austin?"

"Hmm…maybe." She closed her eyes, sighing. "Tim is trying to teach Lyla a lesson about drinking."

"Pot calling kettle black there." Julie opened one eye. "So did you have a good night out to distract you from things? We could still go to a bar, get you a guy. I'll have nowhere to sleep but oh well." She opened her other eye, chuckling. "Maybe Landry is in town."

"Oh shush." Tyra closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths. She immediately opened her eyes. Oh my God. She sat up, her hair sticking in all directions. Her eyes widened. There it was! It was right there! "Oh!" she exclaimed, grabbing her pillow and hitting Julie. "I have it! Lyla was right! It's right there in front of me!"

"Whoa, what are you talking about?"

"The thing! The thing when you're not thinking! The thing!" She grinned, scrambling up and grabbing her file, spinning around and throwing it at Julie, jumping back onto the bed and laughing hysterically. It worked! "My mind went blank and I didn't think and then suddenly there it was! Just like she said it would be! I thought she was full of crap, I mean the advice did come from Tim, but Julie I know where I'm going to school!"

Julie screamed, throwing the papers in the air around them like a hailstorm. "Chicago! With me!"

"With you!"

They both jumped up and down laughing, the papers that she'd painstakingly assembled with pros, cons, courses, and other assorted information to help her decide now all over the room. She fell to her knees on the floor, grabbing the only one that mattered and hurrying to the desk in the corner. "What are you doing?" Julie asked, climbing over the bed and going to stand at her side. "You decided Chicago for sure?"

"I am not second-guessing anything. I've spent the last year worrying and fretting and wondering and second-guessing, I'm not doing it anymore." Tyra scribbled a check for the admissions fee, shoved it into an envelope with her already filled-out acceptance sheet and licked the back, cutting her tongue. She didn't care. She slammed a stamp in the corner and ran downstairs, setting it on the table to go out tomorrow. She ran back upstairs, closing the door behind her and ignoring Tim's shouting to know what was going on. The door across the hall opened, Lyla shouting to him to shut up and get her a damn aspirin. Tyra ignored the both of them, climbing back on the bed and papers next to Julie. "I'm going to Chicago," she announced again.

"This is going to be so great, we can live near each other!"

"Yes," she giggled. She fell onto her pillows, staring at the ceiling, her eyes closing. I'm tired, she thought. She shook her head, whispering. "I spent so long thinking about this and all it took was one drunken night with you and Lyla Garrity of all people…"

"Admit it, you like her."

I will never verbally admit that I like Lyla Garrity. I do have a reputation to uphold. She was also sure Lyla wouldn't admit that she liked her as well. They were reluctant friends. She had to tell Mindy about Chicago. Tell Tim. Tell the boys, they were going to be so excited, there was so much to explore when they'd come visit her. I'm tired, Tyra thought again, her eyes fluttering shut. She gripped her pillow, rolling onto her side, mumbling. "Can we talk tomorrow? I want to sleep now."

"This is really cool Tyra." Julie's voice dropped. "I'm really happy for you."

And those were the last words Tyra heard before she fell to sleep, a smile on her face. Yes, she thought briefly, I'm happy for me too.


	21. Moving Out

_**Chapter 21: Moving Out**_

"You have a lot of crap Tyra," Tim grunted, moving another box into the tiny closet-sized apartment of hers in Chicago. He kicked a box out of the way, cursing as it didn't move, but his foot banged right off it. "What do you have in there!? Rocks!?"

Tyra ignored him, removing pillows from a bag and sticking them into pillowcases, dropping them onto her bed. It was a studio apartment, so her bed was in the corner, around a small partition that stuck out from the wall. On the other side of the partition, Lyla hummed to herself, hanging a photo on the wall. "I don't know Tim, make yourself useful, will you? There's more stuff in the truck and I think Billy got lost."

"Billy went with the kids to see the lake."

Yeah, so they got really lost. Tyra shook her head, pulling her quilt up to the pillows and turning away, walking around the edge of the iron baseboard, leaning against it and glancing at Tim, who was surveying her apartment, his nose wrinkled. "Problem?"

"Yes, it's very small. I don't like it." He really didn't look like he liked it. Tyra knew he had developed a strange sense of claustrophobia since he'd left jail. He glanced at Lyla, gesturing to the door. "I'll be outside."

"You okay?" Lyla asked, moving a box out of the way and walking towards him, her limp barely pronounced after almost a year since her accident in Africa. She rubbed at his back, walking him to the door. "We won't be long." She closed the door behind him, smiling warmly at Tyra. "So it's going to be strange, going back to the house and not having a roommate."

"I could do without you and Tim going at it every night."

Lyla didn't even flush. Tyra lifted her eyebrow. She always tried to knock her off guard, just to see if she could and it was very, very difficult. She'd barely been able to do it. To be honest, Tyra thought maybe she'd only gotten through Lyla's thick skin twice and it wasn't by making wisecracks at her relationship with Tim. Once was when she'd gone after her relationship with her mother and another was when she implied Lyla wasn't doing enough for orphans of the world. Lyla washed her hands in the sink, looking out the window. "This is a nice apartment."

"It's what I could afford. I applied for a part-time counselor position with a rich school in Evanston, only because the pay was good, but…we'll see." Tyra wanted to get her bearings in her first semester at the University of Chicago, but she figured she'd be okay. She walked over to her purse, removing her phone from the front pocket. There was a sad ache in her stomach after she'd said goodbye to her mother and Mindy a few days ago in Texas. She didn't realize she'd miss them so much, being this far from home.

Home, she thought to herself, smiling. She sent Julie a text message letting her know that she was getting settled in her apartment, she was sad to miss her. Julie and Matt were taking another "honeymoon" as she called it, traveling to an art show in New York, where Matt was hoping to get some of his pieces shown. It didn't matter, with the two of them in the same neighborhood, Tyra was sure she'd get sick of the both of them quickly.

She turned away from her phone, seeing Lyla unpacking dishes from a box. "You don't have to put my stuff away," she said. "I can do that later."

"I don't mind."

"You're too selfless Garrity. One of these days you'll have to do something about that," Tyra said, reaching over to rearrange the dishes Lyla was putting away. She glanced at the other woman, who was still moving things around. "Are you okay?"

Lyla smiled again, but it didn't meet her eyes. She sighed, glancing out the window and down the three stories to the truck, where Tim was shutting the door again, carrying another box inside. "I'm going back in a couple weeks," she said, turning and facing Tyra. She placed her hand on her hip. "I have a teaching position at a camp in Lebanon. Refugees from the Syrian crisis."

"Lebanon? Don't things blow up there?"

"Not in awhile."

Well what kind of an answer was that, Tyra wondered, narrowing her eyes. "Does Tim know?" she whispered. He hadn't been in a funk. If his wife was about to leave him for a few months to go to some war zone, you think he'd be bitter about it.

She nodded, whispering. "Yes. We talked about it. It's my job; we both knew it would happen. Besides, our marriage can handle it."

There were "marriages" and there were _marriage, _Tyra thought. "You guys haven't even been married a year, I thought you were going to wait before going back overseas. Wait and see how this whole thing played out."

Lyla lifted an eyebrow, quirking her lip upwards. "Whole thing? It's a marriage, Tyra, not a joke. Tim wasn't thrilled, but…he'll survive." She lifted an eyebrow, her hand going to her hip. "You know he has you. That…" She chuckled, ducking her head, her voice soft. "I know it sounds strange, but it comforts me. He loves you and I know if he's feeling stressed or upset and he can't talk to me, he has you too." She pushed away from the counter, walking over to the door. Tyra was going to say that Tim was still making his way upstairs when Lyla pulled open the door, Tim wandering right through without stopping, dropping a box marked 'fragile' with a loud clatter.

Tyra frowned. "Do you have a homing beacon on him?"

"I just know." Lyla wrapped her arm around his waist when he straightened up. "You hungry? Let's go get something, I'm starving."

"Are you pregnant?"

Lyla instantly gasped, looking down at her stomach in horror. "Why would you ask that? Do I look pregnant?" She immediately flattened her hands over her billowing t-shirt. "Maybe I shouldn't have worn this t-shirt."

"Your shirt is fine."

"Then why would you ask that?"

"You're _always_ hungry," Tim said dramatically.

"It's because I'm hungry not because I'm pregnant, idiot." Lyla laughed, picking up her bag. She slung it over her shoulder, glancing at Tyra. Her eyes sparkled. Tyra smiled a little, Tim and Lyla always seemed to get off on teasing each other. She cocked her head. "Are you coming?"

Tyra waved her hand. "No, you guys go find something, I want to stay behind and get rid of some of these boxes." She also had a list of things she still had to prepare before her first class next week. She also wasn't interested in being their third wheel anymore, especially since she'd already spent the last eight months living with them.

"Suit yourself." Lyla pushed Tim out the front door, closing it behind her.

Tyra rubbed at her forehead, sighing. "It's going to be so nice not having to deal with them anymore," she said to herself, unpacking boxes in her kitchen. She glanced at her bed. "I can leave my bed unmade." Lyla hated unmade beds. She glanced to the bathroom. "I can even leave the bathroom door open if I wanted." She turned quickly to the fridge, her hands outstretched. "And I can buy whatever I want!" Since Tim hated vegetables they didn't last long before he was throwing them out and she could actually have her own beer and not have him stealing it and wow, this was going to be fantastic, finally living on her own after the last year.

She dropped into a chair at her small bistro table propped in a corner, opening up her laptop. She didn't want to unpack anymore. She got through half a box. Right now she wanted to work on school. She ordered her books, made sure financial aid had her work-study information processed so she wasn't showing a positive balance at the start of classes, and she emailed one of her professors stating that yes, she was actively searching for internships, which he wanted proof of after the second week.

She opened up an email from the snooty Evanston school, her eyebrow arching. We'd like to set up an interview, expect our call, the principal's assistant had written. Wow. Already? It wasn't prison, but…she quirked her lip. "It'll do in a pinch," she murmured. It was just a part-time gig anyway. She had classes to focus on.

Social work, Tyra thought to herself, lowering the cover on the laptop. She glanced over her shoulder when the door opened, Tim walking back in. "Lyla forgot her jacket," he said, picking up the sweater jacket that Lyla had draped over the other chair. He frowned. "You okay?"

"Fine. Why do you guys keep asking me that?"

"Lyla said you were just a little distant."

"She tell you everything about me?"

"Yes," Tim answered automatically. He shrugged, completely serious. "Lyla tells me everything."

"I know," Tyra sighed, crossing her legs and leaning on her hand. She glanced up at him, his face impassive. He was dead serious. She pursed her lips, waiting a second before she sighed again, folding her hands in her lap. "I'm finally here Tim. I'm fine, but…it just feels like the other shoe has to drop, you know?"

"Yeah." Tim sat down at the table, leaning over his knees, fiddling with a stray thread in Lyla's sweater. He leaned forward a little more, the silver ring on a string around his neck falling out from beneath the collar of his t-shirt. Tyra reached for it, tugging. He made a face. "Let go."

"You seriously have this like a yoke around your neck. Why'd you take it off your hand?"

"I was working, I had to take it off or else I'd lose my hand if it got caught, I just forgot to put it on," Tim complained. He leaned back in the chair, stretching his legs out in front of hi. He shrugged. "I know what you mean about the other shoe." He nibbled on his lower lip, staring off at the ceiling. "Belle's got to get new shoes…I need to remember that."

"Your line of thinking is extremely weird."

"I know." He waited another beat. Tyra figured he wasn't going to say anything, standing up from the chair and carrying her laptop over to her bed, setting it down beside a box of clothes. She opened it up, starting to take things out when she turned, jumping at the sight of Tim standing like two feet from her. He shrugged. "Sorry. The other shoe won't drop Tyra. You think it will, but…it won't. You'll be fine." He quirked his lip. "Counseling baby gangsters and everything."

"Yeah, well I started on you, so, there's nowhere else to go but up."

"Ouch."

"True." She leaned on the box, her hand going to her hip and arching an eyebrow. "You need to get that to Lyla, she's probably wondering if we're up together together or something." Lyla wouldn't think that, but Tyra still liked to tease Tim about his two girlfriends under one roof together.

"She's not jealous of you."

"I follow her look but don't touch policy."

"What?"

Tyra smiled, crossing her arms over her chest, moving on. She shrugged, her voice dropping, serious now. "You guys are gonna' miss me though. Whatever will you do without me around? You'll only have each other to talk with. Maybe she'll finally figure out what she sees in you."

"We can finally do it in every room of the house now."

"Not like you guys didn't before."

"True." Tim poked her shoulder. "You want anything while we're out? We're gonna' go meet Billy and the kids at some pier. They're already there."

"I'm fine. Go off to your little wifey-poo."

"Call Landry."

That came out of nowhere. Tyra straightened up, leaning back on her boot heel, glancing at Tim, who was already walking out. She was about to call out what did that mean when he was gone, closing the door behind him. I hate you, she thought, shaking her head. She hadn't thought of Landry throughout much of the year, until a few weeks ago. He'd shown up in Dillon, to finalize paperwork for his parents' house, since they'd moved to Houston before they planned on relocating to Florida. He'd gotten some student teaching gig there, so he was living at home with them.

They'd had dinner, caught up, and he'd told her he had a girlfriend, another teacher. Art teacher, he said. She was cute, Tyra had to admit, very geeky and sweet looking, with paint covering her hands in the photo that he'd shown her of the two of them not long after they'd met. She'd promised to tell him when she'd gotten out of Dillon, but it had just slipped her mind. She was sure Landry wasn't waiting up for her call.

Call Landry, Tim told her. How did he know? Maybe…she hung her head in her hands, piecing together the information. She told Mindy who told Billy who told Tim. Gosh, it was good to be out of Dillon for the sole purpose of getting away from the gossip grapevine. Everyone talked. To be honest, she was surprised Tim remembered. It was about a month ago.

Tyra picked up her phone, hitting the numbers for Landry's cell phone, the one she had last. She pressed it to her ear, expecting it to ring, but all she got was an automated message saying the number had been disconnected. She bit her bottom lip, setting it down. She picked it back up, calling Julie. "It's me," she said into Julie's voicemail. "I'm settling in, sorry to bug again, but do you have Landry's phone number? I just have to tell him something. Text it to me, thanks."

She set her phone down, getting up and walking into the kitchen area, unpacking more things. She gave up, leaving and getting into the battered Mustang she'd dragged behind the U-Haul. Tim had fixed it, promised her it was good to go, but she had to start looking at something else and soon. Yeah, yeah, she was going to pray this baby lasted through the next three years. She went to turn the ignition, but stopped, looking up. There was an El station not too far from her apartment, that was the sole purpose of why she'd chosen the small loft.

Might as well figure this thing out on my own, without Matt and Julie to help, she thought, climbing out of her car and locking it in its parking space, making her way through the neighborhood and up the stairs to the tracks.

A couple of hours later, Tyra sat on a bench near the pier, watching people come and go. It was a nice, sunny and breezy day, not too hot or humid. She tucked her hair behind her ears, just enjoying herself. Taking a moment to breathe, Tami told her to do once. She closed her eyes, content. Then her phone rang. "What?" she grumbled, grabbing it from the front pocket of her messenger bag.

It was a Houston area code. Oh, oh my, she thought, shakily lifting it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Matt sent me a text. Said that you wanted my phone number, so I thought I'd call. Sorry I forgot to tell you I changed phones," Landry's voice said. He chuckled. "How are you Tyra?"

"In Chicago," she answered. She bit her bottom lip. "How are you?"

"Good. School is good. Heard you were applying for some job with some rich kids? How do you think that's going to go?"

Tyra laughed. "It's a job, Landry. I don't think I'm quite ready for the Chicago South Side juvenile problem children."

"You are. How is Chicago? Are you there yet?"

"Yeah." She told him how she was out of Dillon now. The weight was gone, the fear of being there forever. Kind of like she had to go a couple steps backwards before she could just start running forwards. She listened to him say that him and Mary, the art teacher, were doing well. They were living together now. Tyra told him about her tiny studio apartment. Landry said that his parents were thinking of moving sooner rather than later to Florida. Tyra told him that Buddy proposed to Angela, but her mother took a high road for once in her life and said no, not until he could prove he deserved her.

They talked for almost twenty minutes, just her sitting there on the bench on the pier. She looked up when she saw Stevie running towards her, waving some new toy he'd gotten. "I have to go," she said, quiet.

"Good luck Tyra," Landry said, honest. He chuckled. "You're out of Dillon. Told you it would happen."

"I'll talk to you soon." I don't know when. Maybe never. Tyra disconnected, looking down at her phone. She didn't save his number, choosing to slip her phone back into her bag. She'd think about it later. She stood up, reaching for Stevie and lifting him into the air. "Gosh you're so heavy now! What'd you get?"

"It's a snake," Stevie said, showing her the stuffed animal he'd gotten at the science museum. Scotty and Sammy ran to her, showing their new toys, Billy following them and talking on his phone. Tyra heard him going on about sacks and touchdowns and how they would have to see what some kid had at the first practice in a week.

Scotty held up a dragon stuffed animal. "Uncle Tim got me this."

"Where is your Uncle Tim?"

"Uncle Tim and Saint Lyla went to find food," Sammy said. Tyra rolled his eyes at the 'Saint Lyla' name. Mindy would talk about her behind her back like that, calling her Saint Lyla. It took weeks to get Scotty to stop, but Sammy still did it. Stevie never called her that, choosing instead to call her Aunt Garrity, since Tim almost never called her Lyla in anyone else's presence.

Stevie looked up at her. "Aunt Garrity is going far away." He sniffed. "And so are you."

"Oh sweetie, we'll be around, don't worry." She kissed his temple, hugging him to her chest. "You can call me whenever, okay? I promise and because now Mommy has a phone like mine, we can talk to each other using the video phone and we can even Skype on the computer. So we can see each other." She kept emphasizing that they could actually see each other and it wasn't just her voice, which seemed to make Stevie feel a little better. The idea that both women who doted on him wouldn't be around all the time like they had been was upsetting to him, but Tyra knew he'd be okay. "You also have Belle," she reminded him.

Tim's horse had sort of become Stevie's horse. When he got very anxious, Mindy took him to Tim's house where he walked round on Belle for awhile, helped with brushing and feeding her, and even cleaning out her stall. It relieved the anxiety and hyperactivity Stevie was beginning to show.

I hope you're okay, Tyra thought, walking down the pier with him. She turned her head, the twins jumping around Billy, telling him what they wanted to eat for dinner. She glanced down at Stevie. "You can stay with me you know." I have no room in my apartment, but you can stay with me. "I'm not going far."

"Okay." Stevie sniffed, clutching his stuffed animal. "I want to be like you when I grow up Aunt Tyra."

Her heart filled up her chest. She smiled, looking down at him, her voice cracking. "Yeah? You want to be like me?"

Stevie nodded quickly. "I want to go to school at Texas and I want to come live with you. I want to get a job like you and be just like you. You're my favorite."

Tyra grinned. You want to be like me? She couldn't stop running it through her head again. She didn't say anything, swinging her and Stevie's clasped hands between them, letting him continue, his thoughts streaming from wanting to be like her to really wanting a hot dog to wanting to be a horse trainer and then to travel around all the time. He circled back to being like her again.

I can't say that anyone has said they want to be like me, Tyra thought, looking out at Lake Michigan. She lifted her face to the sky, smiling wide. But she was glad that it was in a good way. Only ever a good way.

I know what I want, she thought again, later that evening, sitting out at a restaurant while the kids spoke over each other and ate their hot dogs, Billy trying to convince Tim to come on board and coach for the Panthers and stop doing his construction business thing, and Lyla in the middle of telling her a story about how Tim tried to speak Italian while they were in Italy but failed to realize that he was actually speaking Spanish, which Lyla had no idea he even knew and apparently, neither did Tim.

Tyra sighed, leaning back in her chair, tuning out the sounds of her wild and crazy family, turning her head to focus on the lake, scanning out over it and seeing nothing but wide open space.


	22. Epilogue

**A/N:**Thanks for the reviews, I hope this fic was enjoyable, it was one of my favorites to write. I'm working on...well I have three that have been sitting untouched for awhile, I just haven't had the energy to write them. Two are "sequels", one follows Tim and Lyla in Europe during this fic and the other is Tyra and...well a character we meet in this chapter. Third is actually about Noah Street. I'll see which one I make headway on first. Anyways, enjoy this Epilogue. :)

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**_Chapter 22: Epilogue_**

_Seven Years Later_

"Collette!"

Tyra looked up from the papers filling up her desk, rummaging for a file. She grabbed it, hurrying out of her office and holding it up for Ryder, one of the detectives she worked with, currently storming through the bullpen of the 42nd precinct of the Los Angeles Police Department, where she was based. "It's right here, calm your shit," she ordered him, tapping her finger on the cover. "That has my assessment, recommendation, and affidavit."

"Could have taken you longer," he snapped, scanning through. He jabbed a finger to her assessment, his eyes widening. "Release?"

"Yes, release, I told you I'd change my mind."

"Well you never do."

"Will you just shut up and accept my profession for what it is and just go get that kid released from prison? Thank you! Idiot!" She made a move to turn around, but felt him grab her shoulders, giving her a quick hug.

"I love you," Ryder exclaimed. "Thanks for this."

"No problem, I know you want to get Hugo out of detention as soon as possible." Tyra placed her hands on her hips, arching an eyebrow. "Will I see you later? You promised."

He made a face, his roguish features screwing up. He lifted his dark green eyes to hers, smiling quickly. A dimple appeared in his cheek. "Sure."

"Two. Don't miss it. Thank you." She left him to his devices, hurrying out of the precinct with the documents for the juvenile judge. He worked exclusively with juveniles, as did she. She began to clean up some of the paperwork on her desk, finally grabbing a bunch and shoving it into her leather messenger bag with her laptop, slinging the strap over her shoulder.

She drove home through traffic to her West Hollywood condo, climbing out of her new Mustang, which was a far cry from the POS she'd left behind in Chicago after she finished her graduate program and got a job with the Los Angeles County Probation Office. She always had wanted to go to California.

The county salary she pulled, she supplemented with working part time as a counselor for a prestigious private school that celebrity children attended. She'd refused initially to go work in a school, but Mrs. Taylor convinced her that she might enjoy it and plus, she couldn't deny the salary. It was twice what she made at the county. She liked it, finding that many of the children, despite coming from means far above what she had growing up, all had the same problems, some of them even worse.

Tyra shoved clothing into a bag, changing out of her suit and heels into a pair of jeans and a tank top, slinging a moto jacket over her arm as she dragged her stuff out of the condo, locking the door behind her and running down to the elevator. She left, waving to one of her celebrity neighbors.

About an hour and a half later, she stood in line for her flight, annoyed that her fellow traveler wasn't going to…she glanced sideways when someone appeared beside her. "Finally," she snapped, as Ryder rummaged in the pocket of his leather jacket for his ticket. She gestured towards him. "You look horrible."

"Had to disarm a teenage gangster wannabe." Ryder unearthed his ticket, passing it over and flashing his charming smile at the gate attendant. Tyra rolled her eyes. He always tried to do that. It usually worked and he was just so damn innocent about it that even she couldn't get too mad.

They walked onto the plane together, with both of them battling for the window. She won, but mostly because she saw him favoring his right side and jabbed him there with her elbow. She buckled her seatbelt, leaning forward and fixing her stuff the way she liked it when she flew. "Okay," she said, sitting up when he was situated. "First things first."

"Tyra, I know your family. You've told me enough."

"No, you don't and I haven't told you half of it. You think you do, but you don't. My mother is going to flirt shamelessly with you, just so you know. Do not do anything she asks, especially if it's housework. She has a boyfriend, he's going to want to talk to you about playing football when you were at Stanford." Tyra held up her finger, wagging it. "You do not talk to him. You do not listen to him. Whatever Buddy Garrity tries to do with you, you run away and possibly shoot him." Her eyes widened. "Trust me, his daughter has been trying to do it for the last seven years, you'll be doing them a favor, and hey, if you do, Lyla Garrity will be on your side and that's what you want, because she makes all the decisions with her husband…"

Ryder rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat and closing them. "Tyra, I've met families of women I've dated."

"No you haven't, because you haven't dated me. By the way, nice to know that three years means we've been dating." She used airquotes. They lived together. Idiot. She sighed, closing her eyes. "Now, this is a wedding we're going to and it is my ex-boyfriend's wedding."

"He's your brother-in-law, it's his wedding thing, I don't think I have anything to be worried about," Ryder laughed. His smile flickered. "Right?" Tyra smiled. Tim only got jealous when Lyla Garrity was involved, so she knew that he didn't have anything to be worried about, but she was simply worried that Ryder would get a little jealous.

She continued on with her briefing. "Now, his wife, as I said, she's a little…" Tyra narrowed her eyes, trying to think of a decent word to describe Lyla, since Ryder had never met her nor had he heard most of the stories about her. She waved her hand from side to side. "Lyla's different. Don't be surprised if she starts showing off her scars."

"Oh I got some of my own," Ryder chuckled. He was about to lower his shirt collar so she could see for the hundredth time where he'd gotten a through and through shot from way back in the day.

She stilled his hand. "No, no you don't have some of your own. Not compared to Garrity. Also, just give her a hundred bucks to save yourself from the guilt trip she's going to send you on when she starts soliciting for donations to her schools. Now I'm taking a nap. See you in a couple hours." Tyra closed her eyes, settling back. She needed to sleep. It was going to be a long flight.

A few hours later, she walked out of Dillon Regional Airport after taking a scary puddle jumper ride from Midland through a storm, Ryder stumbling along behind her. He hated those tiny planes. She got a rental car, driving them through Dillon and ignoring Ryder's surprised comments about how small it was. It was even tinier to her than she remembered.

Tyra pulled into Tim's driveway around six that evening. She smiled at Ryder's wide-eyed look. "Yeah. It's nice." Tim had added on an extra wing to the downstairs area, breaking through the wall next to the staircase, expanding the living room and adding more windows to get the sunlight in the morning and evening. Floor to ceiling windows and everything, even a fireplace. She climbed out, glancing at Ryder, smiling. He now seemed nervous to be meeting her family. She felt a little bad for freaking him out so she patted his shoulder lightly. "They'll love you."

She climbed out, closing the door behind her and hurried up the porch, opening the door without bothering to knock. "Hello!" she called. Instantly she heard crashing coming from the living room and soft crying from upstairs. Oh shit, she totally forgot. She went around the corner, rolling her eyes as Lyla tugged her shirt back on and Tim lazily stretched from where he was shirtless and barefoot on the couch. "What's up Collette?" he yawned.

"You have children now. You're getting married tomorrow. You both should be ashamed that you can't wait until tomorrow night."

"Yeah, I'm so ashamed, and it's been over six weeks," Tim shot back at her, lifting an eyebrow. Tyra had no idea what that was supposed to mean. She glanced at Lyla who was shooting her an annoyed look as well. He waved his hand. "We'll try later Garrity. Definitely before tomorrow."

"Shut up and go get your children."

"Oh!" Tyra exclaimed, clapping her hands. She dropped her voice, hushed. "I want to see them."

"Yes, of course, but we want to see your boyfriend," Lyla said, walking around the couch and offering her hand to Ryder, who seemed stunned. Tyra thought most people were when they met Lyla for the first time. She had only gotten prettier with age and was too damn nice when she wanted to be. It was that mean streak that most people didn't get to see and even then Tyra thought most guys found it hot. "Hi, you must be Ryder, the detective, I'm Lyla Riggins, and I'm Tyra's sister-in-law and sort of stepsister. Welcome to Dillon!"

"Ah, yeah, nice to meet you." Ryder glanced at Tim, who approached him, his shirt still open. "Uh, you must be Tim." He smiled, laughing and gestured towards the couch. "Sorry to interrupt."

"No big deal. So you're Tyra's new squeeze, huh?" Tim rotated his gaze onto her. "It's been three years, about time we finally meet."

"Tim, shut up, where are the babies?"

"Upstairs." Tim nodded towards the kitchen. "So Ryder, do you want a beer?"

Shoot. I should have told Ryder that that was basically Riggins talk for sizing him up. It was a test. She glanced at Ryder, who simply smiled, accepting the offer and asking if he had Lonestar. She swore Tim did a giddy little hop on his way to the kitchen. He'd get along fine with Ryder.

She went upstairs with Lyla, stepping into the room that used to be hers, her eyes widening at the sight of the babies, lying in one of those convertible cribs, the kind that went from cradle to crib to toddler bed. There was another against the wall, but both infants were almost curled around each other like ying and yang. "Wow," she whispered, leaning over and staring at them.

Lyla reached in, picking up the little girl, while her brother opened his mouth beside her, crying out and opening his eyes, tiny fists up near his face. "Yeah, they're bruisers."

That was not what she thought. They were so tiny. "They're beautiful," she whispered, carefully lifting up Liam from the crib, holding the baby boy to her chest. She glanced at Daisy, the little girl's hazel eyes wide on her, surrounded by astonishingly long eyelashes for an eight-week old. She shook her head, chuckling. "Not that I don't like her name, but I can't see Tim walking around with a daughter named Daisy."

"Well we switched, he was going to name the boy and I was going to name the girl, but…" Lyla shrugged, kissing Daisy's forehead. "When they were born I knew I wanted to name him William, after Billy, I thought Tim would appreciate it. He couldn't figure anything out until he brought me daisies in the hospital. Then he just said let's call her Daisy."

"What's her middle name?"

"Catherine, it's my middle name, he wanted to keep it the same."

"Well she's gorgeous." So was Liam, who was curling into her, moving his face around her chest. She glanced at Lyla, who was just smiling down at her daughter. "Is he searching for what I think he's searching for?"

"He's his daddy's boy."

Clearly, Tyra thought, shifting Liam in her arms so he wasn't hunting for food. She curved her finger over his cheek, his little hazel eyes opening on hers. He blinked a couple of times, tiny fingers clenching her shirt and his dark hair sticking up in all directions, like he had a tiny Mowhawk. "I'm glad you guys got them," she murmured, glancing at Lyla, who was just staring down at Daisy. She sighed. "I know it was hard."

"Yeah," Lyla mused. She tossed her hair out of her eyes, smiling and swaying from side to side, holding Daisy a little tighter. She took another deep breath, her eyes crinkling. "Tim jokes that these are our investments. We put about ten grand into bringing them to the world…planned them, paid for them," she joked. She shrugged, gazing at Daisy again. "But I always said that I wanted to make sure Tim was over thirty." She smirked. "I told him I was pregnant on his thirty-first birthday. Had to wait two weeks, but I wanted to make sure he was in fact over thirty." Lyla looked up, her eyes widening and voice brightening. "Want to see my dress?"

"Of course." I am a girl, aren't I? Tyra followed Lyla into her bedroom, frowning slightly. "I thought the groom couldn't see the dress before the wedding?"

"Tim is oblivious, he probably thinks it's a table cloth." Lyla opened up the tall armoire that served as her closet, reaching in and taking out a garment bag one handed. She hung it on a hook beside the door, unzipping and pushing the sides away.

Tyra's eyes expanded at how pretty it was. "Lyla," she whispered, stepping to touch the lace sleeves. She shook her head, laughing. "This is gorgeous."

"It was my grandmother's. I had it altered to fit my style, but…" Lyla fingered the high lace collar. It came down to a slight 'v' over her chest, before the bodice of silk came up. The lace took up the back and the long sleeves. The skirt was silk and satin, falling to the floor like a puddle of water. Tyra followed the skirt down to the train, still holding Liam against her. She knelt, frowning. Lyla grinned. "I had them put that in there."

"It's nice. I love the embroidery." Embroidered on the bottom of the skirt were the initials "LGR." She tossed her hair out of her eyes. "What are the babies wearing?"

Lyla immediately removed another garment bag, setting it on the bed and taking out a pale blue gingham dress with matching little blue pants that had ruffles on the ankles. It went with a black tux with a blue tie attached to the shirt. "Cute, huh?" she laughed.

"Adorable. I take it Tim will wear clothes?"

"He'll wear what I put out for him. The only request he had that I ignored was no tie. He can loosen it if he wants, but this is the wedding I didn't get to have, so I am going to do what I want and he can suck it up." Lyla pointed to herself. "This is my day."

Nice, Tyra thought, chuckling. She glanced down at Liam, who was awake and snuffling, lifting her head to ask Lyla when her actual anniversary day was with Tim when the sound of front door opening and closing beneath them echoed up the staircase. Tyra heard a distinctive "Hey y'all!" She arched an eyebrow. "Mrs. Taylor?"

"Yeah, I think Tim called them over when you let him know you were on your way." Lyla walked out of her room and back into the twins' room, over to the changing table, lying Daisy back and pulling on a sling, tying it around herself and settling Daisy into it. She nodded towards Liam. "You want one for him or his carrier?"

"Carrier." I am not strapping this kid to my chest like a sack of potatoes. Tyra carted him downstairs, the little boy's eyes now wide and looking up. She set him on the counter in the kitchen. "Hey Tim, this kid looks nothing like you, are you sure he's yours? Ow." She glanced over her shoulder, rubbing at it from where Lyla had punched her.

"My boy," Tim said possessively, taking Liam out of his carrier and blowing raspberries on the baby's little potbelly sticking out from beneath his Panther t-shirt.

It was starting to get pretty full of commotion, Tyra thought, hugging Tami and Gracie, who was now a very beautiful thirteen year old that looked a lot like Tami. She hugged Coach, who was trying to get to Ryder, after she dropped that he played for Stanford and won a state championship with his high school football team in Oklahoma, where he grew up.

She managed to step out of the melee, especially when the front door opened again and Stevie came rocketing in, twelve years old and a complete nerd. She ruffled his hair, inspected his new glasses, which she hadn't yet seen, and promised she'd check out his science project, which he had back at the house. She had to also listen to the twins for a moment, now ten and both about the same size as Stevie. They'd definitely be linebackers.

Tyra eventually slipped away from everyone, going out onto the porch. She found sanctuary out here. She glanced at the stall, smiling and walking out and into the little barn. Belle was standing, a blanket over her shoulders. "Hey old girl," she murmured, the horse, whose dark eyes fixated on her. She whinnied, stepping to the door, draping her neck over and out, bucking her head underneath Tyra's outstretched hand. She murmured to her, smiling a little. "Sorry I haven't been to see you in awhile. I bet you're going to have a lot of fun with two new babies around. Don't worry, you're still Tim's girl."

"Talking to horses now?"

She turned her head, smiling at Tami. "Hey Mrs. Taylor."

"Honey I think you can call me Tami. It's been about twelve years since you were in school." Tami walked over, her arms crossed over her chest. She grinned. "It's good to see you. What's the occasion?"

"No occasion, I just…wanted Ryder to meet everyone." She smiled at Tami's knowing look and arched eyebrow. Tyra rolled her eyes. "It's pretty serious. He lives with me now…we kind of work together, but…he's a good guy." He's probably the best of all the guys I've dated. He doesn't put up with my shit, I don't put up with his. He's funny, he gets me…he was from a similar background, growing up with a single dad after his mom ran out. He had an older sister, ironically who was also a stripper, but not like Mindy's stripper with a heart of gold act. A hardcore drug addict stripper. She sighed, shrugging. "Ryder's a detective, I'm sure Julie's told you about him."

"Not really. What's his background?"

She sighed. It was a long story with Ryder. Especially her and Ryder and how they finally hooked up. She supposed it could be told another time, but she gave the cliffnotes version now, since Mrs. Taylor asked. "Went to juvie for boosting cars, had a badass parole officer when he got out who straightened him up and shoved him into football, he went to Stanford because he's that smart, decided to enlist in the Army, did special forces stuff, and when he got out he joined the LAPD and now he's a detective working juvenile crimes." She figured that was all anyone needed to know about Ryder. It explained a lot of his behavior. His big heart but his incredible temper. She smiled at Tami. "I work with him."

"How is work?"

"Amazing." That was the only word for it. She leaned against the stall door, Belle's head brushing against hers. Tyra smiled at Tami. "I found what I want to do. My path, so to speak. I love it. I love working with the kids…some I can't help, some I can. It's hard work. But it's good." She chuckled, lifting her right hand, where her knuckles were still black and blue from where she'd had to throw a kid down onto the ground when he'd tried to rush her for her keys while she was in his cell. "I get into prison fights now and then."

"Oh my gosh," Tami laughed. She dropped Tyra's hand, smiling wide. Her eyes softened. "Well I'm so proud of you Tyra. I know lots of people are proud of you. Your sister is for sure."

Yeah, Mindy just wanted me out. Now I'm out. She wondered what Mindy would think of Ryder. She knew that the act of bringing him here might as well have told the family she was going to marry him. She tucked her hair behind her ear. "I didn't want to like him," she whispered. "I wanted my career."

"Honey I didn't want to like Eric when I started dating him," she laughed. She grinned. "I didn't want to get married when I was so young, but I loved him. I wanted to spend my life with him. Same as Julie. Same as your sister and as Lyla."

"My mom probably wants me to marry him tomorrow."

"Your mother is proud of you. She's a mother, she loves you very much."

Tyra knew her mother loved her and was proud of her, but she also knew that Angela was itching for more grandchildren and Tim's babies didn't count to her. Even if she had been dating Buddy Garrity off and on for the last ten years. She sighed, rubbing at Belle's neck. "I love California," she murmured. She grinned, glancing at Tami, who was still watching her. "I think I said I was going to move there and drop out of school when I was sixteen."

"I think you did too," Tami laughed.

"Funny how life still works out the way we think it will when we're teenagers." She rubbed Belle's neck, the horse finally breaking away and stepping back into her stall, settling down in the hay, her eyes closing to sleep. I take it that's my cue. She walked out of the barn with Tami, up to the house again.

The door burst open, Ryder walking out and towards her, eyes wide. "Your family is insane," he said.

"And?" she asked, dry.

He grinned, the damn dimple appearing. "I love them." He immediately turned around, since Tim was yelling for him to come back so that he and Coach could show him what the Panthers used as a record-setting offense to win their latest state championship.

Lyla stepped out of the house, her hair done back in a patterned scarf. Somehow she managed to look incredibly chic and bohemian even with the baby strapped to her chest. She glared at Tyra. "Get these people out of my house, it's going to be bad enough with them all here tomorrow." She rolled her eyes. "This is worse than when I was in Burma trying to set up schools and we had juntas chasing us down."

"I think you exaggerate some of these stories."

Whenever she made that comment, she flinched, knowing that Lyla would lift up her shirt and yes, there she went lifting it up, showing the speckle of bullet scars along her left side, while talking about how she got them in the Congo. She then would hold up her right arm, showing the knife wound she got from a guerilla fighter in Mali and shrapnel wounds from being in Lebanon during a bomb blast.

Tami shook her head. "Truly awful," she commented, guiding Lyla back into the house, with Tyra following. She went into the living room, pulling Eric away from a heated discussion with Billy and Ryder about football. "Let's go Eric, we'll be back here tomorrow for the ceremony. Ryder, we'll talk tomorrow and get to know you properly."

She hugged and kissed everyone goodbye, smiling when Tami whispered into her ear how proud she was of her once again. "I knew you wouldn't stay in Dillon forever after that last stint," she teased. Tyra wanted to say that she knew, but she kept her mouth closed, because there was that initial fear that it would be forever. She waved goodbye, closing the door, saying she'd see them all tomorrow.

About an hour later, they were gone. She was exhausted. All she wanted to do was curl up in bed and go to sleep, but that didn't seem to be an immediate option for her, as Lyla was showing Ryder all of her knickknacks and photos from traveling overseas, acting like she didn't have three days to show him. She was currently pointing out a framed picture, which Tyra realized were all the postcards. She squinted, smiling when she saw the very last one from Mexico, in the bottom right corner.

Tyra went over to Tim, who was holding both kids on his chest like little beans, watching football on TV. She leaned down, kissing his cheek. "I'm going to bed. Let me sleep in tomorrow."

"I'm going to wake you up at the asscrack of dawn," he said. He tugged on her shirt. "Hey, check the fridge, Lyla put something for you we got on it. It's from Landry."

Landry? She hadn't thought of Landry in…well not since she saw him when she visited Matt and Julie in Chicago a couple years ago. He'd been visiting too. He was on break from the prep school he taught at it in Massachusetts, where he now lived after going to grad school there. She was still living in California, but she didn't recall ever giving him her address. It hadn't been a long talk with him. Just a 'hey what's up, how are you doing' type of thing.

She glanced down at Tim, who seemed totally unaware he had two wiggling little beans on his chest. "What's it like?" she wondered out loud. She waited, but he didn't respond. Did he know what she was talking about? She was about to ask again when he answered, his voice soft.

"It feels like I always have a stomachache from getting punched each time I look at them," he whispered. He lifted his eyes up, completely clear on what she'd asked. He blinked. "That's what it feels like."

Tyra smiled, ruffling his hair, which was still shorter. "Well they're beautiful. They look like mini-Lyla and mini-Tim. Hopefully they don't act the same way."

"Good night Tyra."

"I love you Riggins."

"Shut up Tyra."

She grinned, turning and leaving him alone, collecting the envelope on the fridge in Landry's handwriting, before she went to shower and change into shorts and a tank top, walking into the guest room, where Ryder was stretched out on the bed, flicking through messages on his phone. "Did Lyla show you all her stuff?"

"Yeah. She's a pretty cool broad. She's like a doll, but she showed me her gunshot wounds. Pretty badass."

"Just don't make her angry. She can be a bitch."

"Really? She seems so sweet."

"She's got a mean streak."

Ryder glanced sideways at her, smiling. "I love you Collette." He very rarely called her Tyra. She smiled, leaning back into the pillows, looking up at the ceiling. He tapped her arm. "What's on your mind?"

Nothing, not really, she thought, reaching for the envelope. She flicked it open, removing a single piece of paper. It was a letter, with Landry saying how nice it was to see her again. He didn't want to call, he thought it would be awkward, but then realized that the only address he had for her was Tim and he didn't want to ask Matt or Julie to give it to her. He hoped she was well and thought she seemed happy. See, you didn't end up in Dillon after all, he said, signing off.

She smiled, putting the letter back into the envelope. That was sweet of him. Sweet guy. She glanced at Ryder, who was tapping furiously on his phone. He was not what she was looking for, at all. It worked for them. They did their thing. He respected her decisions. It worked. She sighed. "You know I don't want to love you."

"How nice," he said, dryly.

"I don't want to get married." She felt the need to repeat that, because she knew that he'd been thinking about it and her mother was surely going to put him through his paces, especially since they were all here at a wedding. She pursed her lips. That was her choice. "I hope you know that. Not for a while at least. If ever. I want my career."

"It's not all about the career, Tyra. You have a good one."

"I do, but you know where you stand."

"Lyla's got a career. She's got kids. So does your sister."

"Lyla was designed to have kids, so was Mindy. Its in their nature." She pursed her lips, thinking. No marriage. She wasn't Tim, she wasn't Julie, and she wasn't even Landry. It was just not in her plan. "I also don't want kids until I'm at least thirty-five, if ever, so I hope the little rugrats out there aren't making your biological clock tick."

"I take it they aren't making yours tick."

"Not really."

"You were gushing over both of them like your ovaries were going to explode."

She punched his shoulder, laughing. "Nice image, idiot. No, I love them, they're cute and I'm very happy for Tim." She paused. The look on his face when he looked at the twins was…well she was very happy for her friend. "He went through a lot of crap in his life to get here."

Ryder shucked off his clothes, pulling on a clean t-shirt over his boxers. "So Tim and Lyla are a little weird, yeah? Your sister doesn't seem like that."

"What do you mean weird?"

"They had diplomas in the bathroom, above the toilet. I now know that Lyla graduated summa cum laude from Vanderbilt and has a Master's from the University of Texas."

Tyra chuckled. "Yeah, after Tim got his Associate's degree, which took him about six years, Lyla put it in the living room, above the fireplace. He moved it to the bathroom, where he said shit belonged. So she put hers there too in solidarity."

"I kind of like the idea of it." Ryder yawned, crawling in the bed beside her and turning off the light, settling back into the pillows and closing his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Tyra leaned back on her elbows, frowning at him. "You might like Tim, Mindy, Billy and Lyla, but my mother is the final test."

"She'll like me and if she does, you'll have to marry me."

"No I don't."

"Are you telling me that you can go into the cells of juvenile murderers and baby gangsters and come out of there still being afraid of marriage? Last week you had to take down a kid and testify in like four different trials and you're still afraid of it?" Ryder sighed, closing his eyes. He mumbled. "You're lucky I love you."

Why I really have no idea. I'm bitter, angry, and selfish, she thought with a small smile. Qualities that she'd come to realize were not true, but which nevertheless she tended to show. She slid farther beneath the covers of the bed. I'm back in Dillon, she sighed, closing her eyes.

"So Billy said that he has an extra couple tickets for the away game next week, do you want to go? We're still going to be here, right? High school football seems to be a big deal around here, I wouldn't want to be seen as not caring."

Oh you have no idea, she thought, smiling. "We'll talk tomorrow."

Later the next day, Tyra leaned back against Ryder, watching as Tim and Lyla spun around on the dance floor, after all the photos had been taken, the cake had been cut and eaten, and everyone was just situated with people and family they loved, watching the two who had now been married eight years, dance around, only looking at each other. Even Tim didn't seem to mind the dark blue necktie he had to wear and Lyla didn't care that he was stepping on the train of her dress.

She glanced down at her phone, looking at what she called a 'cliché family photo' of the entire family standing near the porch. It was so insane. No one was paying attention to when Matt, the official wedding photographer, took it. Lyla was holding up Liam, who had his arms lifted and his eyes wide on something in the sky, while Tim fussed with Daisy's shoes, one of which was hanging from her ankle while she sucked on his tie. The twins weren't paying attention, but were looking at the ground, and Stevie was cleaning his glasses, talking to Mindy who was adjusting Billy's tie, while he was leaning towards Tim, trying to tell him something. Angela was blinking and Buddy wasn't even looking at the camera. Meanwhile, Lyla's siblings were fighting and her mother was glaring at Angela from the other side of the group.

The only person who was paying attention and looking photo ready wasn't even a person, but Belle the horse, who was standing behind Billy and Mindy, wearing her wedding best of blue flowers woven into her mane and a big blue ribbon around her neck.

"What are you doing looking at that, you should look out at that," Ryder said, gesturing towards Tim and Lyla, who were now glaring at each other. He frowned. "Uh oh, are they fighting?"

"Probably. Is Tim pretending she doesn't exist right now?"

"Well he's not looking at her, does that count?"

"He's probably complaining about something, she's getting frustrated with him, they've lasted eight years, they'll last more." Tyra set her phone down, leaning back against his chest. She scanned the crowd of people. It seemed half of Dillon showed up for this wedding. She saw Angela cooing with one of the babies, while Lyla's mother held another. Buddy sat between them, staring ahead, probably praying for the night to end. Angela looked up and caught her gaze, waving.

"Your mother loves me, you know what that means."

"No, it means nothing."

Ryder kissed behind her ear, whispering. She remained still, her hands over his, which were folded over her stomach. Her gaze focused on Tim and Lyla, who were yes, fighting as they danced at their 'real' wedding. "I respect you Tyra. Whatever your decision, I will follow it, at least let me tease you about it."

She smiled; he really was a decent guy. Her eyes closed and she titled her head back. "It has nothing to do with you," she whispered. She turned her head a little, her voice quiet. "And I know you respect me."

"You're amazing," he whispered. He rolled his eyes. "I know that our first meeting wasn't the best…"

"You told the entire police department my life story."

"Not the whole department."

"You looked in my office and ten seconds later you had me down pat!" That was probably what upset her the most. He could predict everything about her, all from one scan of her office. Nevermind he was a cop and trained to do those sorts of things. Tyra shook her head, glancing back out at the dance floor, where Lyla was now smiling up at Tim, who was making a goofy face. "Okay, we're all good on the bets, they've made up."

Leaning over the table, Mindy poked at her shoulder. "How long did you bet before the first fight?"

"I lost, I said they'd get into it on the way down the aisle because Tim's shirttail was untucked."

"Damn, I was twenty minutes into the pictures, I thought that he'd get annoyed with her wanting him to smile so much, but they survived those." Mindy leaned back, grabbing Billy, who was talking with Coach Taylor. "Who had first dance?"

Eric leaned over, swiping the twenty from Billy's hand. "That would be me."

"Eric Taylor," Tami warned. She took the twenty, waving it at him. "I said they'd make up after the first fight, so this is mine, thank you very much." Julie, on the other side of her, chastised her mother for betting on when a couple would fight, it was so unlike her. Matt just took photos.

When it was over, Tyra looked up at Tim, walking over to them with Lyla, while other people went out onto the dance floor. She nodded towards Billy. " Your brother is betting on when you guys are going to have your first fight, can you imagine?" She put on a fake expression of shock and dismay. "Horrible."

Lyla looked over at Mrs. Taylor, who was holding up the twenty between her two fingers. "Did you win?" she asked, her arm around Tim. She glanced at Billy and Mindy, gaping at her. Even Tyra was frowning. She shrugged. "You think we don't know you guys were betting? We wanted Mrs. Taylor to win."

"Got it Mrs. Coach?" Tim asked, giving her a thumb's up.

Tami gave him a thumb's up. Tim nodded in approval. Tyra shook her head again. They fixed a bet against them. Unbelievable. They were made for each other. "You guys are insane. Come on Ryder, let's dance."

"You have a strange family," Ryder said. He laughed, looking up at the house, spinning her around in a tight circle, her heel spinning. She grinned up at him, clasping his hand tight, her other going around his shoulders, fingers splaying over his broad shoulders. He shook his head again, grinning. "You wanted to leave this town? It seems so cool."

Only those who had never grown up here could say that, she thought, smiling warmly up at him. She shook her head, her voice quiet. "I wouldn't have met you if I hadn't of left this town." She bit her lower lip, glancing at Mindy, who was trying to listen as Stevie waved his hands in the air, pointing to the twins, who were running around with Belle. Her breath escaped shakily. It wasn't so bad, Mindy's life. She scanned the rest. Tim was bouncing Daisy against his chest, talking to one of the coaches. Lyla was holding her dress up in one hand, talking with Julie, showing her something with Liam. She took in everyone. Mrs. Taylor and Coach, who were listening to Gracie, who was talking to them but couldn't take her eyes off of Stevie.

She pulled away slightly, looking up at Ryder, who was watching her. "This town," she said, quiet. She kept her voice even. "My family is from this town, my friends…I'll come back and it's part of me, but I'm not…not staying. Not that that would be the end of the world, but…it's just not who I am."

Ryder dropped a kiss to her lips. "You are Tyra Collette."

Tyra leaned against him, smiling. She felt calm. Focused. "I am Tyra Collette," she murmured, chuckling and thinking of something that Landry Clarke had said a long time ago. "And I can rule the world." She closed her eyes, smiling.

THE END


End file.
